Lord of Shadows: Shadow of Skiamance
by Immortus Lux
Summary: Warned by an ancient force of Minecraftia, its iron-fisted ruler summons a long forgotten evil back from the dead. As Minecraftia stands on the brink of civil war, a single hero becomes involved in the rapidly unfolding events that quickly spin out of control. Can he save Minecraftia from being plunged into darkness, or will he fall at the hands of the Emperor and his newest asset?
1. Prologue

**Hello. If you are reading my fan-fiction, then I greatly appreciate it. If you have time, consider reviewing it and pointing out criticism, as it will help me make this as best as it can be. My writing will naturally improve as I write more, so that means later chapters will probably be better than the early ones. Also, the first few chapters are a bit short, but the later will be longer. I will merge chapter and 5 together, but yeah. The next chapters will be longer. I promise.**

Skiamance lounged on his throne, his face an expressionless mask that gave nothing away. The face could have been carved out of stone for all the emotion it held, apart from the eyes, which glittered with a cold, calculating yet cruel light. The eyes of a man who relished his power, who enjoyed the torment of others. The eyes of someone that was confident of his authority that was never questioned. The eyes of a ruler.

They glanced around the throne room now, taking in the polished stone bricks, the ornament paintings that cost more than a house, everything that was now his. His great empire, built over the years, uniting the places of the south.

Yet beyond the mask, something was there. Behind the veil of feigned control, known only to Skiamance himself there was a hurricane of questions, unknowns, disbelief and a tiny spark of what may have been fear. This in itself was extraordinary; the Emperor had nobody to fear.

And yet he was bothered. A dream, a terrible dream, warning him. At first he took no notice of it. What the Forewarner had told him had been ridiculous. For a mere_ boy_ to be his downfall... He laughed in disbelief to himself afterwards, waving it away. But only now was he dwelling on it once more, wondering if he had been foolish, because dreams like that were never just dreams. They were visions, omens, signs of what was to come. Skiamance allowed his composure to slip a fraction. Suppose the dream was right, suppose the boy indeed somehow managed to disrupt Skiamance's plans, to undo all that he had worked for, to stop his domination of the North, and, Notch forbid, even kill him. No, he thought, the Empire does not take to silly omens. He was great and powerful, and nothing could rival that power. Nothing. But it might be a good idea to deal with the boy anyway, just to be sure. If only he knew just _where_ the boy was...

A sharp knock on the door told him he was not alone.

"Come in," He called, somewhat irritated. He had given orders specifically to be left alone, apart from important news. If they had disturbed him for no reason, he would make them pay.

With a lazy flick of Skiamance's hand, the doors flew open, revealing a figure in a cloak, clutching a crumpled scroll in his clenched fist. Glancing at the new arrival, instantly Skiamance's irritation vanished. There could only be one reason his head mage was here. They found it.

"My lord." The mage bowed before striding into the throne room. "We have located it, after so long searching, after months..."

Skiamance raised a hand, silencing the mage.

"You have done me a service Raz'iel. You have Lord Skiamance's favour." He rose out of the throne, and held out his hand, asking for the scroll. Raz'iel hesitated only slightly.

"May I ask what you intend to use it for?"

Skiamance froze, not used to being questioned in this way. Then he said coldly,

"My business is not yours also. Stand back and observe." He ran his eyes quickly over the scroll, reading it, feeling the power of the spell. It was written in an ancient tongue, the oldest of languages of Minecraftia. A language readable only by those who studied the magic arts. Satisfied, he tossed the scroll to Raz'iel who caught it easily, and went to stand in the centre of the throne room.

"My Lord," warned Raz'iel, "It is not wise to bring him back from the dead. He is chaotic, too powerful, too unpredictable." Skiamance waved him away.

"You should not fear power my friend. Power is made to be used. Besides, he will be a valuable asset."

Raz'iel still looked uneasy.

"My Lord," He said, phrasing his words carefully so as not to invoke his master's anger. "You have been known in the past to have certain... weaknesses involving power... would it not seem more prudent to-"

"Weaknesses?" Hissed Skiamance. "Lies. I am not weak. Are you reconsidering you allegiance to me already? Perhaps wish to join your old friend Stephan? Or maybe you doubt my abilities?" Raz'iel paled, taking a step back.

"No... my Lord."

"Good. Then proceed."

Raz'iel tossed something into the air, something that looked very much an eye. It hung there, suspended in midair by some unknown force.

"The eye of ender," said Skiamance in slight wonder. "Yes, it will make a fine life source to our newest ally."

Skiamance gazed at the eye of ender in front of him, then he began to chant, eyes fixed on the floor in front of him. Skiamance's voice echoed in the chamber, dry and rasping as he uttered in the tongue of darkness, energy collecting in the room. Shadows thickened and began to glimmer, drawn to the dark magic. Gradually, the shadows started to gather before Skiamance, a large sphere of dark matter slowly spreading across the stone tiles. It encased the eye, building something out of the shadows. Or someone. His voice grew louder and he raised his arms.

"Rise!" He called loudly, "Rise and serve me!"

The darkness fell away, revealing a hooded figure in a flowing cloak. The shadows fell on him so that only the lower part of his face was visible except for his eyes. They were closed.

Skiamance hung his head, breathing heavily. He felt exhausted. He had performed magic as advanced as this before, but this was the first time he had brought someone back from the dead, and the effort required was immense.

"Who do you serve?" He said hoarsely.

The hooded figure lifted his head, glancing at Skiamance with strange amusement, and a cold smile playing on his lips. His eyes flew open, a startling, blank white.

"Master Herobrine pledges his allegiance to you, my Lord."


	2. Things Start Bad

Maybe chopping wood on a day that would have been a day off, should circumstances have been different, wasn't normally an idea of people's fun, but for me it was certainly entertaining. Mostly because each time I swung the axe, I pretended that I was destroying my problems.

CRACK. No money. CRACK. Stupid Skiamance with his stupid empire who brought this whole thing down on us. CRACK. Stupid, arrogant Gareth, with his taunts and sneers, constantly reminding me just how much more important he was. CRACK. Chopping wood every day just to be able to eat. CRACK. Constantly being the underdog to every imperial guard to ever have-

"Somebody's having a bad day."

I turned, and there stood Byjorn, chuckling in the doorway that looked out into the back yard, a little fenced off area from his forge. He wasn't really my father, more my carer, looking after me since I was a kid. Looking behind him into the forge, I could see the latest project he was working on. Some sort of double edged sword.

Still smiling, he continued playfully,

"When I told you to chop the wood, I didn't mean to brutally murder it with an axe."

"Right." I said roughly. Looking down at the mutilated log, I kicked it away angrily. Only good for burning now.

"Now Darien," Any sign of humour melted off his face and his expression turned serious. "I need to finish up in the forge, but you need to go and get some wood for proper. We need it." He lingered for a second more. "And give Hugo that sugar he needs will you?"

He went back inside. Even though he was essentially a blacksmith, working metal didn't earn nearly enough that we needed so I helped out, chopping wood, shearing sheep, doing odd jobs around the village.

I sighed and, still holding my axe, went through the forge into the street.

I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a glass pane, and stopped, staring at the guy opposite me. His piercing grey eyes were like a coming storm; dark, dangerous and mysterious, a force to be reckoned with. Set on his face was a deep frown, and dark messy hair framed his face. The guy was _me_.

I sighed. I was certainly a force everybody _just needed _to reckon with. I don't think I had any peace since the beginning of time.

I would need to walk through the whole village to get to the woods, and I made a mental note to visit Hugo's bakery. Maybe Dawn was in, if I was lucky. Which I wasn't.

Some people admit that I have bad luck. That's not true. I have the _worst_ luck, definitely in Eldolin, probably in the whole of the south, and _possibly_ in the whole world.

Anybody else that day would probably not run into their arch-enemy, tripped on the loose gravel, and made an absolute fool of themselves. Of course, these things only happened to me, and I got used to it over the years. Still, that didn't mean I had to like it.

I went flying head first into the ground, dropping my axe and scraping my hands on the gravel, the tiny shards of rock scratching my fingers. Getting unsteadily to my feet, I wiped the blood away, at the same time glancing in his direction.

Gareth was a couple of metres away, deep in conversation with an imperial mate of his. He was tall, and rather well built, with sharp, chiseled features and an evil, crooked smile that when you saw it, you_ knew_ you were in trouble.

I dusted myself off and carried on, hoping he wouldn't notice me. No such luck.

He waved at me, and I suppressed a groan as he came over with a cruel smile.

"So how is my favourite buddy eh?"

I did my best to stay calm. It was pretty hard, but I managed to stay silent. I hated the guy. More than that, I wanted to kill him on a daily basis. Every time he spoke to me, his voice seemed to say: _I am more important than you, I have more money than you, and I can say and do whatever I like, because if you do anything about it, I will kill you and everyone you know. So deal with it._

I didn't know all that much about him, but from what I've heard, he signed up to the Empire army, and got put into guard duty. Eldolin was a small village, and not many guards got any action; the most violent thing that could happen was a drunk starting a brawl. So to keep boredom at bay, Gareth spends his time antagonising us fellow villagers, since we can't do anything about it. Step one toe out of the line and the consequences are disastrous.

"So, keeping well I see," He examined me, eyeing the axe in my hand with amusement. "Working? Shame. A nice day as well."

"Not that you would know about work. Lazy guy like you." I growled, weighing the iron axe in my hand. It was very tempting to hit him with it.

Gareth tutted with disapproval, circling around me and stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"You should watch your tongue. Nasty temper you've got, not nice at all."

_Gee, _I thought, _I wonder why._

"Anyway, I came to ask you a favour." The he said emphasised the last word, I knew that '_favour_' was a nice way of saying '_order_'. So I didn't really get a lot of choice.

"Favour?" I asked carefully, narrowing my eyes "You need help from me?"

"Yes, actually. You see, I'm in a bit of debt with a mate of mine, made a bet. And frankly, I don't have quite enough to pay him off…"

Dread coursed through me. I could see where this was going,

"…So I was wondering, could I borrow a little money?" He looked at me questioningly, his evil smirk that I hated so much creeping onto his face.

Through gritted teeth, I said, " How much?" He shrugged, suppressing a smile.

"Really, a tiny sum. Nothing you can't handle." I hefted my axe, and growled again, " How much?" He gazed at me as if in thought.

"Well, 50 Ems should cover it. And I need to cash in the bet in three days, so, give it to me the morning after the next? Like I said, nothing you couldn't handle."

50 Emeralds in two days? Was he serious? I doubted our house would fetch as much, apart from the fact there was nobody to buy it.

"Suppose I... Couldn't pay?" I said through gritted teeth. Gareth smirked.

"Well I sincerely hope you do. Who's that girl you spend so much time with? Something beginning with a 'D'-"

"Dawn." I snarled.

"Dawn, right. Fine girl. Shame if something were to happen to her, perhaps involving some sort of crime... I'd hate to arrest your girlfriend-"

"She's not my girlfriend." I interrupted. He carried on, ignoring me.

"-or, maybe even the baker. So we should try our best to pay this off eh?"

Blackmail, plain and simple. And the worst part was, that he could do it, just because he was an imperial guardsman, throwing his weight around. It wasn't even that rare; just last week a friend of Byjorn's got caught in almost the same situation. The difference was that, unlike me and Byjorn, he actually had the money to pay.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep calm and resisting the temptation to throw my axe into his stupid, grinning face. _I hate you_, I was thinking over and over. _I hate you so much_.

"You're blackmailing me." I said, my voice shaking. Gareth rolled his eyes.

"You Eldolins, always have to be so straightforward and to the point." He sighed and leaned back, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "Learn to take a hint mate. _Yes_, I am blackmailing you. _Yes_, you have to pay me 50 emeralds in two days because if you don't, I will have your girlfriend and, depending on my mood, her lumbering fool of a father framed and killed. That simple enough for you? Anyway, I'll be off. Working, you know? Doing a proper job, unlike some I know."

He patted my shoulder and sauntered off, leaving me in a right state.

By the time I got to Hugo's Bakery, I was not in the best of moods. I threw my axe into the ground, it's iron head sinking into the soft earth, and stalked inside. I slammed the door when I came in, making the wooden walls quiver, and the battered sign outside swing sadly.

Hugo was leaning on the counter, sorting some sort of paperwork when he glanced up from his writing and chuckled. He was huge and tall, with the burly frame of a miner, and looked intimidating, but I knew he was kind and gentle at heart.

"Rough morning?" He asked, smiling wearily.

"You could say that," I muttered.

"Don't worry mate. It will all work out." He said, crossing out a sentence, then sighing and putting his writing away.

_Right_, I thought. _Have you ever been told that you have to pay a sum that is near impossible to get in just two short days, and if you don't, your best friend and her dad are going to get framed for something bad enough to get killed for?_ If it works out, I fail to see how.

I put the sugar on the counter and leaned against the wall, watching him work at the stove. After a few minutes I asked casually,

"Is Dawn in?"

Hugo shook his head, piling more coal into the stove.

"No, she left for the woods few minutes before you came in. I was under the impression she was waiting for you."

"Right." I said, shifting my feet uncomfortably. I hoped he didn't notice me blush. "I better get going." Hugo nodded.

"See you later Darien. You take care, stay outa trouble."

The way he said the last part... It seemed as if he knew what me and Gareth had been discussing.

I picked my axe up on the way out, and started towards the woods. Sure enough, Gareth was true to his word. It was a great day, the sun shining through the leaves of the trees, a cool breeze whispering through the forest.

I loved being here, away from the constant pressure of money and doing what everyone expected you to do, worried you were going to do something wrong. In the woods I felt free. _What wouldn't I give to leave this place_, I thought bitterly.

I headed over to my favourite spot, axe swung over my shoulder. It was in a clearing, on the edge of a cliff overlooking a massive valley, and I stood at the ridge, gazing into the distance. Distant mountains stood strong, towering over the land, and the valley cut through the plains like a knife. Small waterfalls here and there crashed into the valley floor, and the dazzling sun made the water sparkle silver and gold. It was a truly inspirational sight.

Tearing my eyes from the beautiful scene, I shuffled to the nearest tree, and, eyeing the trunk. I swung the axe in an arc, when something gripped my shoulder and a voice whispered in my ear,

"Gotcha."

I almost killed Dawn there and then, yelling out in surprise and swinging my axe sideways, forcing her to leap out of the way. I lost my balance and fell to the ground, hands flailing wildly.

"Easy tiger." She laughed, helping me up.

"What's with you today?" She brushed a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face, and smiled.

As usual, I forgot how to breathe for a second, which seriously annoyed me. I mean, we were best friends, nothing more, nothing less. But sometimes my heart didn't agree. Suppose we were something more..._No_, I thought, _I refuse to think like that._

"Nothing," I said, brushing dirt off my shirt. "Just working, the usual." I said bitterly.

Dawn looked concerned, but didn't argue.

I started chopping. It wasn't that bad, mostly because Dawn was there, so we could talk and laugh. Towards the evening, when the sun started to set, I even started to enjoy myself a little. Dawn comes after the darkest hour. Literally.

When I finished, satisfied with the amount, I hauled the planks onto my shoulder, and walked Dawn back to the village into the sunset, the dying sun glaring into our eyes.

"What were you talking about to Gareth earlier?" She said unexpectedly.

I paused, considering how to answer.

"You heard us talking?" I asked curiously. She frowned uncertainly.

"Saw mostly. It sounded like he was threatening you."

"How much did you hear?" I said tensely.

She looked at me a little strangely, trying to figure out my reaction.

"Just something about money. That was about it" Dawn frowned suspiciously as I relaxed.

I sighed bitterly, not noticing a root sticking up through the earth until I tripped on it. Regaining my balance, I said,

"Just business. He wanted to borrow money, the creep." I shook my head in disgust.

Dawn still looked concerned.

"You shouldn't get on his bad side Darien. He can make life difficult for you."

"Oh yes, because life is real easy at the moment." I said sarcastically. We laughed, and I realised we had reached home. The paths broke off into a fork. I needed to go right, she needed to go left.

"How much did he ask for?" She asked, still frowning.

I said wearily, sighing.

"50 ems. The guy's crazy, if he thinks I can give him that much." I shook my head in disbelief, still wondering his motives. Surely he knew how hopelessly poor we were? If so, then why ask for money at all? Dawn looked deep in thought for a while.

"I'll see you later," She said, still troubled.

"See you later." I said, raising a hand in goodbye.

"Bye." She said with a smile, walking off.

I watched her go, then hoisted the logs onto my shoulder and went home. There was no way tomorrow will be as bad and unlucky as today. Right...?

...Wrong. I had no idea at the time, but I was to realise that my luck was going to get a lot, _lot_ worse.


	3. The Two Dark Lords

"Lord, describe this dream to me." Herobrine paced the throne room, clearly agitated, his dark cloak billowing behind him. Skiamance sat in his throne, leaning on his elbow, and looking down upon his servant.

"I still don't see why it means anything," He grumbled. Herobrine stopped pacing and glanced at his master. His white eyes glowed brightly.

"It means everything my lord. What you heard, what the spirit told you, it was a prophecy, a warning. It would be unwise to ignore such a warning."

Frowning, Skiamance recalled the dream, lost, momentarily in the memory...

. . .

Skiamance walked in the darkness, striding deeper into its grasp. Nothing existed, nothing apart from him. This was the void.

Suddenly a voice rang out from the depths, cold, harsh and ancient, dripping with malice.

"Welcome to my domain, Shadow Walker."

Skiamance whipped around, unable to place the sound. Nobody had called him that since... Since Stephan. He reeled back and looked around wildly, disorientated in the complete darkness.

"Where are you?" He hissed, agitated. Cruel laughter echoed all around him.

"I am neither here nor there. I am Monetus, the spirit of warning, existing on the distant plains of existence. I see the present, I remember the past, I glimpse the future. And the future I have seen is very dark indeed."

The spirit chuckled again, sending shivers down his spine. Skiamance waited, listening intently.

"A war is brewing Shadow walker, a war incited by you. You have chosen a path shrouded in darkness, and this path will lead to what you seek, what you require. We are alike, you and I, Shadow walker. We both seek a greater good, a greater power."

Skiamance clenched his fist.

"All I ever wanted," he growled, "was to unite my people. Yet the North defies me with its democracies and votes. Fools, why can't they see? Why can't they see what I see?"

He was angry now, bellowing in his rage. Never before had emotion spilled out so strongly, overwhelming him.

"They are destroying Minecraftia," He snarled, "giving power to the people! People can't be trusted with power, only leaders, true leaders! The only way forward is to have someone to look up to, to guide them! The only way, only way forward is through a conquering. They do not see it yet, they accuse me of being cruel. But it means only the strongest survive, a more united people, strong people! Why can't they see it?"

Monetus waited patiently, like observing a child throwing a tantrum.

"It is true others do not see our ways," the spirit mused. "But war is imminent. Yet you cannot make the assault on Northern territory alone. Do not try what you are planning, it is destined to fail."

Skiamance stared at the empty space around him.

"Then what must I do to succeed?" he whispered.

"There is one, who is a student of the dark arts, he goes by the name of Herobrine."

Skiamance's eyes grew unfocused... Herobrine...Stephan... No, he told himself, Stephan made his choice. Stephan was weak, and he was strong. No need to bring up the painful subject.

"Bring him back, he will be the key to your success. Without him, your plans will fail. Herobrine will be your key to victory."

Skiamance frowned,

"Him? No after what happened, after _Stephan_... I can't."

Monetus spoke quickly,

"But the dead have no memory. He will not remember the events that took place. You have nothing to fear."

Skiamance bowed his head with gratitude.

"Thank you," he said. "Thank you for helping me."

"There is one other thing." The spirits voice had changed. Instead of the persuasive purr it had been, it turned to something akin to anger.

"There is boy, a boy that could be your downfall. He is of your blood, of your heritage. You know of whom I speak."

Skiamance paled.

"I do."

The voice had turned back into a seductive purr.

"The boy has power, so much power. He does not realise, he does not know of it yet. But I foresaw that his power could be your downfall. His future is clouded and hidden from me, that means it can be changed. His destiny is yet to unfold, and I fear fate will play it's hand. But this boy holds truly the key to your failure or your success. Find him, mould him into a weapon. He is the same you, you know, has the same certain... Trait. You know his weaknesses even if he does not. With great temptation, even he cannot save him from himself."

Skiamance shook his head, as if to clear it. He could feel himself waking, his conciseness returning.

"Tell me what to do," he said, fading from the dream.

"Find Herobrine," snarled the voice, "Find the boy. Do not kill him, not yet. Only then can you achieve what you and I truly seek."

Skiamance was almost awake.

"One last thing," he said, "How will any of this help you?"

The last thing he remembered was the spirit's laughter.

"All in good time my friend."

Monetus chuckled, and Skiamance's eyes opened, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom and trying to plans the weeks ahead.

. . .

Herobrine gazed at his master, deep in thought. Skiamance had, of course, withheld some parts of the dream, especially the places concerning Herobrine. He had no intention of revealing the details to his servant. Herobrine started pacing again, muttering to himself.

"...We must find... The boy... Spawner... Undead army-" He froze, and clicked his fingers.

"I understand, my Lord!" he cried excitedly. Skiamance raised his eyebrow, secretly impressed anyone could make any sense of the events that occurred.

Herobrine approached the Emperor, his blank eyes glowing brightly.

"I understand my Lord. The warning… It was also a blessing! Monetus told you not to try a direct assault with our current forces, and he is right-"

Skiamance shifted in his throne uncomfortably. He did not like his forces questioned that way.

Herobrine had noticed, and a cold smile crept onto his face.

"I am not questioning your power my Lord, nor am I implying that your forces are weak. But it is not enough. If you go against the North at present time, you may win, but, alas, you may also lose. I do not think it is wise to take such a risky gamble."

Skiamance glared at him.

"Then what do you propose?" His voice rang out loudly, echoing in the chamber.

"It is true our forces are not strong enough. Yet. If we can strengthen our power, build an army... We would be unstoppable. Here is what I propose my Lord. Do you know of reanimation?"

Skiamance frowned.

"Bringing the dead back to life?" Herobrine shook his head patiently.

"Not quite back to life, but essentially that is the concept. Reanimation uses dark magic to give temporary life to the dead, allowing the corpse to do our bidding. It is raising the dead."

Skiamance's expression hardened and his frown deepened.

"A zombie?" He asked, clearly bothered. Herobrine nodded.

"Yes my Lord. I know the spell, I can use it. I can build us an army. Except..." he started, but his voice trailed off.

Skiamance, who had been warming to the plan, snapped.

"What?"

Herobrine shifted his feet nervously.

"There is a problem my Lord. It is hard to perform this spell, it takes up much energy. Even you, my Lord, understand the immense effort required-"

The Emperor nodded- this he understood.

"-but there is a way around it. What do you know of the Spawner?"

Skiamance frowned again, lounging in his throne. He knew it was an ancient artefact, lost long ago. But apart from that, he knew little else.

"Not much," he said shortly. He hated the feeling others knew more than he did.

Herobrine started his pacing again.

"It is an ancient relic, lost long ago. It is a very special relic, for it was forged in the forge of Notch's Peak. Some say it was made by Notch himself." Herobrine shrugged. "I know not of the ancient legends, but what makes this relic most special is its magic. It has the ability to perform the very task we need it for."

Skiamance sat up straighter, more alert.

"You mean it can raise zombies?"

Herobrine's eyes glowed brighter with excitement.

"Precisely my Lord. With the spawner we can create an army; a huge, unstoppable force. We will crush the North- they will stand no chance."

There was a long silence. Skiamance stroked his chin thoughtfully, considering all aspects of the proposition. After several long, tense minutes he answered.

"It is good," he admitted after a minute or so, and Herobrine visibly relaxed, "very good in fact. However, there is a problem. You say it is long lost?"

Herobrine smiled cruelly.

"Do not worry of this, my Lord. We will not have to look for it. It is possible to manipulate the chess board in such a way, that the pawns will do the task for us. Trust me, this you should not worry about. Our informant at the Resistance will come through. They will take the bait."

"And what of the boy?"

"My servants will take care of it. I assure you my Lord... If he is Minecraftia, then he will be found."

Herobrine smiled again, then clicked his fingers. The air warped strangely, and purple particles sparked, and two creatures appeared at the sides of their master. They were impossibly tall, towering over the two dark lords, their purple eyes alive with menace. They were made of shadows, as dark as the void, their limbs long and stretched. Endermen; some of the most ancient creatures known, stirring in the dark since the forming of Minecraftia.

Skiamance still looked sceptical.

"I do not doubt your assets, little servant… But they are... too obvious."

"Leave it to me my Lord," Herobrine said again. "Trust me." And with that, he swept out of the throne room, and gave the order to the Enders.

"Bring me the boy. He goes by the name of Darien. And if anyone stands in your way-" A small smile crossed his face, "Then kill."


	4. Strange Encounter

I groaned as I woke up, screwing my eyes against the harsh sunlight streaming through the windows and rolled out of bed onto the floor.

Dusting myself off, I staggered off to the kitchen sleepily, pausing only at Byjorn's door to wake him.

"Wake up," I muttered, before yawning loudly and lumbering off to the kitchen. Usually he would be up in a pinch, but this time I was met with only silence. Shaking my head in annoyance, I went back and peeked my head into the doorway.

"Oi," I said loudly. "Wake up."

He groaned and rolled over, saying,

"I don't feel too good today. I'll take a day off."

I stared. In the whole time that I knew him (a very long time) he had never, _ever_ missed a day of work in his life. He must feel pretty bad if he's willing to break his record of going to work.

"Okay, fine," I said, somewhat disgruntled. After breakfast, I picked up my axe and headed for the door. I paused for a minute on the front porch.

I had bad feeling about today, the feeling of change. Something would happen today that would change my life forever.

Then I shook my head. _Don't be crazy_, I told myself, _today's just like any other day in your sorry, miserable life_. Oh, and then I had Gareth's debt to worry about.

I headed for the woods again, but decided to stop at Hugo's bakery to say good morning. I opened the door just to bump into Dawn, and both of us leapt back.

I, being me, tripped backwards on the stairs and fell back, landing on the floor painfully.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She cried as she helped me up.

"It's okay, really," I said. Dawn pulled me up by the arm and we stood together. We started speaking at the same time.

"So what are you-"

"Where is-"

We both broke off and laughed. Eventually I said, smiling,

"You first."

Dawn frowned.

"I was going to say, where is Byjorn this morning? I didn't see him at the forge."

"He's a little ill," I said. "Needs a day off."

Dawn raised an eyebrow, and I could tell she knew I had been downplaying it. A little ill didn't cover it if Byjorn was taking a day off. The guy would crawl to the place if he could.

"I should look after him," she mused to herself, "he'll be all by himself in that house."

"What about me?" I asked, slightly hurt.

Dawn rolled her eyes.

"You'll live. If you were ill, I would look after you."

"I'll remember that next time I have a cold," I grumbled, then waved goodbye, and trudged off to the woods.

I was almost at the edge of the forest line when something caught my eye. Two people I never saw before were walking into the village square. They were the typical guard build- tall and burly, walking slowly. They even wore imperial armour. This wasn't reason to worry; people here, especially the guards, came and went all the time, but something was slightly off about the new arrivals, something I couldn't put my finger on. Maybe it was the way they swaggered aggressively, with purpose, like mercenaries coming in for the kill. Or maybe it was just the way the shadows seemed to cling to them as they walked, gathering around their feet like tamed wolves.

One of them turned around, staring at me coldly and I stumbled back and gasped. His eyes were completely purple, miniature flames flickering in the irises.

The pair unfroze and carried on walking. I shook my head, wondering if it was a hallucination. Maybe I had too much to drink last week. Whatever the reason, I was unnerved.

I tried to shake off the weird feeling, but it wasn't easy. Thinking of Dawn, and how much I would've liked her to be here, I marched up to my usual spot; the one that overlooked the valley, and started chopping.

I just swung the axe, when suddenly a guy appeared right next to me. And I mean appeared, because I swear there was nobody there a moment before. He just materialised in the air, leaving a splash of purple sparks in his wake. I jumped about a foot in the air, smashing my head into a low branch, and yelled-

"Ow!"

I stumbled back, a wild look in my eyes.

"Who-who are you?" I cried.

I looked at him, taking in tough features, the sympathetic smile. He was lean but agile, his brown hair cropped short and his beard trimmed. A scar that started at this temple ran the entire length of his face, curving around his jawline and continuing down his neck and out of site. Off topically, I wondered what you would have to do to receive an injury like that.

"My name is not important. Not yet." His voice sounded low and urgent.

I stood up and backed away.

"It's plenty important to me," I said.

He shook his head furiously, and held out a hand.

"If you want to live, come with me," he growled. "You are in grave danger."

I kept backing away slowly, shaking my head in denial.

"What? I don't believe you. Who are you? What are you doing here?"

My voice rose in a panic. The guy looked suspicious, like a bandit. I heard of those before, ambushing helpless travellers on the roads and taking all of their belongings. Really, getting robbed would round my day off nicely. It was the last thing I needed.

He said, "Then let me show you."

I debated for a second, biting my lip. Part of me wanted to run home, and stay in the safety of my abode, looking after Byjorn. But a smaller part of me wanted to hear what he had to say.

He sighed, holding out his hand again. "My name is Evandrus. You can call me Evan."

After several agonising moments, my feet shuffling, unsure which way to go, I made my decision.

Against my better judgement, I followed him back to the village. In hindsight, if I had chosen option 1 then I would have saved myself a whole lot of trouble. But then again, if I had chosen the first option, by now I might have been dead.

What danger? I thought to myself, creeping behind the guy, carefully and quietly.

And then it clicked. The two strangers. The way they walked with so much purpose, as if they were looking for someone. The purple eyes.

If they were looking for me, I thought, perplexed, then they must not know me by face. One if them stared straight at me and did nothing.

Suddenly Evan stopped, and I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I ploughed into him, knocking us both to the ground. I struggled up and was about to apologise, when he held up a finger to his lips. I got the message. Quiet.

We had arrived at a set of low trees, the branches reaching down to the ground and a thick canopy of leaves blocking us from view. We could observe, unobserved.

He motioned towards the two strangers, who were now in deep conversation with Gareth.

"I think you have a problem."


	5. We Take a Leap of Faith

I watched from a distance as Gareth's expression slipped from polite puzzlement to utter confusion. He seemed to be explaining something. One of the strangers asked something, and Gareth shook his head. The other asked him another question, and Gareth gestured in a vague direction.

"What's he doing?" I muttered, trying to understand. Evandrus looked at me.

"Telling them where you live."

"But... Why? Who are they? What are they? Because I know they are not human," I whispered furiously.

"They are Endermen, fulfilling a dark lord's bidding. As for what they are doing here... " He grimaced. "They were sent here to find you, so my best guess is that someone is looking for you."

I didn't want to say what was on my mind, I was too afraid of the answer. But I asked it anyway.

"Who?"

Evan's dark eyes looked troubled.

"There is only one dark lord I know of, or at least one of sizeable power. Lord Skiamance. And once an enderman looks for you there is no escape. They will find you, and kill anybody who stands in the way of achieving their goal."

I wanted to question him further but there was no time. The Endermen were almost near our house. I relaxed slightly. Byjorn was at the forge, working, safely out of the way, and nobody else cared enough for me to visit. I would have enough time to warn him, and to pack some essentials if I was to run away.

Then I remembered. I froze with horror. Because Byjorn was not working today, he was lying at home, unable to move, and looking after him was...

"Dawn!" I yelled, and leapt to my feet. I was about to sprint home before Evan tackled me, driving us both to the dirt. I struggled, and he whispered quickly and loudly,

"Fool! There is nothing you can do! Save yourself, idiot!"

I managed to get him off me for a second before he dived and pinned me to the ground by my shoulders, shaking them.

"Don't you understand?! There is nothing you can do! Run while you still can you fool!"

I refused to believe that.

"No! I don't care. Get. Off. Me!" We struggled silently for a few more precious seconds when a branch snapped overhead and Evan's eyes flicked towards the sound. It was all the distraction I needed.

With a triumphant yell, I succeeded in rolling from under him, and, leaping to my feet, sprinted in the direction of home. I crashed through the bushes and caught my foot on a log, losing my balance. I swore as I stumbled, but luckily managed not to fall and kept going, racing to that house.

Our house had two entrances, the front door, and a back door, the latter leading to a small fenced off area in which we liked to grow a couple of melons and carrots.

I vaulted over the fence now, silently thanking that at the time I had put it up, I had been too lazy to make any higher. A sharp knock came from the door just as I came crashing in and Dawn stared at me as I breathed heavily, catching my breath.

She had started to move to open the door, but I shook my head furiously. I motioned to the door, to myself and then mouthed- _Endermen_.

Instantly, the colour drained from her face. She obviously knew what they were, unlike me.

There was another series of knocking, louder this time. Cautiously, I stood on my tiptoes and peered through a small crack in the wood between the roof and the wall. Sure enough, they were there. They seemed to be arguing, speaking in hushed voices.

They knocked again, this time even louder and more desperately.

Silently, I crept to Byjorn's room and made my way to the far wall. And there it was, in the frame and hanging on the wall- Byjorn's iron sword, polished and gleaming.

Carefully, I took it out of its frame, feeling its weight. I crept back to Dawn, who mouthed, _what do we do?_

I motioned towards the door behind, the one going into the backyard. The plan was simple. We could exit through the back way and either run or attack from behind.

Unfortunately, my perfect plan was ruined when the door crashed flat onto the floor, splintered and torn out of the hinges, revealing two very angry men with purple fire in their eyes.

Me and Dawn back up, and I held the sword up.

"Get back," I warned. "Unless you want to get a taste of this."

The one on the left laughed, and it was nothing like I expected. It was cold and rasping, like an iron blade scraped across stone. The voice was laced with menace, malicious and evil. When he... When it spoke, it's voice sounded dark and old. No... Not old._ Ancient_, and powerful. And terrifying.

"Submit now," It hissed, "And you will suffer less pain. You cannot run from destiny, little hero."

They both laughed, and advanced slowly. Their forms seemed to be flickering, sometimes man, sometimes the tall, dark creature out of nightmares.

"One thing, before you try to kill me," I said, trying to sound tough. I didn't know if it worked. "Who wants me?"

This time one on the right spoke, it's voice deeper than it's counterpart's.

"You are not to be killed, no. You are needed very much alive. As for who wants you... You know what happens to the enemies of Lord Skiamance."

I cringed, almost dropping the sword. Oh I knew all right. And I didn't want to go into details of stories and rumours that I heard around the village, because really... It wasn't pleasant.

"What does he want with me?" I said, trying to keep my hand from shaking.

"That is not our business to know," The first one hissed.

"Our orders were to bring you to him."

They both tensed, and I lunged with the sword, a strike that should have skewered the left one straight through. Instead it passed through empty air as he teleported away, reappearing behind me in a shower of purple sparks. I slashed at the other one, knocking a painting off the wall, and he warped to the side and pushed me. They obviously possessed superhuman strength because I flew into the wall, smashing the table and crumpling to the floor.

I got unsteadily to my feet in a daze. The sword was gone. My back felt bruised and painful. I though we were goners, but suddenly Evan was beside to me gripping my arm and dragging me towards him. I had not idea of what he was doing until he grabbed the bucket of water that always stood in the corner and in a smooth movement drenched the pair of Enders.

A moment of silence. Then the air was filled with piercing shrieks and screams of the creatures of the night, their void-like skin erupting in a series of angry blisters as it started to smoke. They seemed to have an extreme allergic reaction to water. And by now they had abandoned the human form completely.

I was still dazed when Evan grabbed me and Dawn and bellowed, "_RUN!_"

We sprinted out of the door, Evan throwing us ahead of him, and the three of us barrelled straight through the fence, not even bothering to jump over. We kept running, leaving the pained screams of the endermen behind us.

Finally we reached the forest line. I slid to a stop.

"Dawn," I gasped, out of breath. "Go... go home." She stared at me like I was insane.

"I'm coming with you!" she said, breathing heavily. I shook my head.

"Too... Too dangerous," I gasped, recovering a little. A sharp pain pierced my side and I doubled over, trying to breathe.

"I want to go with you! You can't just run off!" She said angrily.

"You have a life here!" I said loudly, straightening up with difficulty.

"You call this a life?" she shouted.

"Hugo!" I yelled.

She shook her head and shoved me.

"He would understand!"

Evan appeared next to us shouting,

"No time! We need to go _NOW_!"

Sure enough, the endermen were staring to recover. They glared at me with those purple eyes, and I knew it was time to go.

"You are _impossible_," I growled as we sped off into the forest, racing after Evan.

We dashed through the trees, following a path I recognised, the path to my clearing. The branches scratched at my face and clothes, intent on stopping our progress. Behind us we could hear the sounds of pursuit as the endermen teleported between the trees, trying to find a clear path through the maze of branches and leaves. I could barely run. I stumbled and lost rhythm, trying to keep up, my lungs burning and my throat dry.

Finally we burst out into the clearing,_ my_ clearing, and I tried to stop. But Evan kept dragging me along, to the edge of the cliff and the waterfall. I didn't resist- there was no way he was going to do what I thought he was going to.

"We aren't actually going to…" I faltered as I realised he had no intention of stopping. "No! That's insane! No-stop!_ STOP_!" I bellowed, but he kept going. I tried to wriggle out of his grip, but with a colossal effort he heaved us over the edge, and the three of use tumbled into the abyss...

. . .

We fell through the waterfall, screaming, before landing with a loud splash. Spluttering, choking and blind, I waded out of the pool and collapsed onto the bank, Dawn and Evan following suit.

The three of us crawled to dry land, and lay there for a minute, breathing heavily. I tried to sit up, but my head started to swim and everything went blurry. I shivered as a breeze whispered through the tall grass, chilling me to the bone.

"What I don't understand," I muttered, after my head cleared and eyes went back into focus, "Is why they can't just teleport down here. Not that I'm complaining,"

Evan sneered, getting to his feet,

"Apparently you are more of an idiot than you look."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I said defensively. I also got up, staggering a little before regaining my balance.

Dawn got between us.

"Boys," she said, and I could tell she was trying hard not to smile. "If you haven't noticed, we still have a problem."

She motioned to the top of the cliff, where the pair of silhouettes stood out on the rocky outcrop against the slowly setting sun. I glimpsed a glint of purple and shuddered. "And I also don't know why they can't just teleport down here," Dawn continued. "So it would be nice to know."

Evandrus huffed unhappily, then sighed.

"You saw their reactions to water back there, it causes them extreme pain. They can't cross running barriers of water. Their teleporting isn't that accurate either. They might get themselves stuck in one of these water falls-" He gestured around the valley, "-and it would probably kill them."

"Why can't they cross water?" I asked curiously.

Evan sighed again.

"Because endermen are so full of dark magic, their souls _so_ corrupted and evil, that they couldn't possibly cross something as pure and clean as water."

"What makes you think this water's clean?" I muttered, but he ignored me.

"I suppose it's too much to hope that they'll be reckless enough to try?" Dawn said half-hopefully.

Evan shook his head.

"They wouldn't take the risk."

Glaring at me, he started trekking deeper into the valley.

"Come on!" he said, waving at use to hurry up. "Keep up!"

I had no idea where we were going, but Dawn just shrugged and I did the same, jogging after Evan.

. . .

Hours later, we were still going. I was exhausted, barely able to stand, but Evan seemed determined that we kept hiking. My feet felt so numb and stiff I wondered if I would ever get feeling in my toes again.

"Those Endermen are still behind us," he reminded us every time me and Dawn sat down for a second's rest. "The further we get away the safer we will be."

_I'd rather get killed by endermen than walk another mile_, I thought to myself bitterly, as I hauled myself to my feet for the tenth time. Still, despite everything, it was a beautiful place. The steep valley edges rose up into the sky like giants, towering over the land. The exposed rock face was laced with multi-coloured minerals, the sheets of stone built layer upon layer, forming strange patterns. Majestic waterfalls cascaded down it's slopes, roaring monsters of swirling white and blue. The scale of the place seemed almost impossible to comprehend.

It turned out we didn't have all that long to go. I spotted a small log cabin in the distance, and it seemed to be the destination Evan was determined to reach.

Evan paused for a second, so that I almost ploughed into him again, but Dawn pulled me away.

"Thanks," I said, but Evan put a finger to his lips and closed his eyes as if concentrating. The air seemed to charge with energy for a second, so overwhelming that I flinched, and Evan frowned, eyes still shut.

He opened his eyes.

"They're gone," he said, with a tone of finality.

I frowned uncertainly.

"How can you be sure?" Evan rolled his eyes, and returned to his irritable manner.

"Because I checked, idiot. Ever heard of magic?"

I ignored the jibe, thinking. That explained the energy, but why could I feel it? I was pretty sure Dawn didn't react the same way I did.

I looked back over my shoulder. I could just about spot my clearing, the little ridge over the waterfall, and thought wistfully of home.

If it had been a normal day, by now Byjorn would be clocking in at the forge, finishing up for the day. Hugo would be baking his last loaf, and I would most likely be spending time with Dawn or drinking at the tavern, trying to forget my troubles. I might have gotten home late, only to wake up early the next day to chop wood. Again. Again, and again. If only it had been a normal day.

Fate is a funny thing. A single, tiny choice can make you do things you thought you would never do, turn you into somebody you swore to yourself you never would become. And then it leaves you hanging, wondering, if only I had chosen differently, if only I turned left at the crossroads. A small, seemingly insignificant action can make your world spiral out of control. Our life is determined by those little decisions, those tiny points that choose which way the universe turns. And sometimes those choices make you regret what you did.

Anyway, for some reason I was thinking that as I gazed into the sunset, overwhelmed momentarily by loneliness. I was almost glad when Dawn put her hand on my shoulder and said softly,

"Let's go."

Finally we reached the small cabin. Evan forced open the wooden door, and the three of us staggered inside.

It looked like somebody had been home recently; a log fire burned in the corner, the coals still glowing with a warm light, a bowl of half eaten stew lay on the oak table. A single bed stood in the corner of the shack, piled with thick, red, woollen covers.

"What is this place?" Dawn said, awed.

"My home," Evan replied gruffly. When he caught our awestruck looks, he said sharply, "It's a long story."

Leaning against the wall and trying to stay upright, I shrugged, then stared longingly at the bed. What wouldn't I give to lay down for just a few hours, to rest my legs, which were stiff and numb.

"Who get's the bed?" I said wistfully.

"The lady gets the bed," Evan said from behind me, smirking. "Make yourself comfortable."

I tried to find the most softest bit of floor, and lay down, passing out almost instantly, and hoping I wouldn't have nightmares.

I couldn't have been more wrong. I should ban myself from hoping, because really, with my luck _everything _I hope for just goes wrong.


	6. The Warning

I dreamt of the void. Every way I turned, there was the same uniform darkness, endless and absolute. Tiny grey particles of dust swirled around my feet, blown along by a sinister wind. There was nobody there, nothing existed apart from me.

And yet...I had the distinct feeling that I was not alone. Something else was sharing this nothingness with me. Something… perhaps not even human.

"Am I dead?" I wondered aloud.

"You are not dead, hero," answered the darkness behind me. "It is not your time."

The voice was female, beautiful, like a gentle breeze whispering through a forest. I turned around and squinted into the murk but there was no one there.

"You have a hard path ahead of you," The woman murmured. "I am sorry, but I only glimpse the future- I cannot change it. There is no escaping your fate."

I swayed on the spot slightly, mesmerised by the beautiful voice.

"Who-who are you?" I managed, shaking my head to clear it.

"Monetia, Sh-"

"-she who warns." I finished.

I took a step back, snapping out of the trance. I knew exactly who this was. According to legends, the two spirits of warning, Monetus and Monetia, appeared before great changes, usually for the worst. And I didn't need _any_ more bad news.

"So what exactly are you going to warn me about?" I asked cautiously.

"Winds of change are blowing, stirred by my brother's love of chaos and darkness. War is coming like a storm; Skiamance's full wrath is still to be felt. The darkness is stirring in Minecraftia. Monsters not seen for aeons are starting to wake from their slumber, ready to avenge their years of restraint and imprisonment."

I shook my head and frowned.

"Wait a second, _war_?"

"Minecraftia is on the brink of collapsing into civil war, a war of Skiamance's doing," she said. "The Southern Empire pitted against the Northern Republic. Skiamance has played his final hand, and soon he will be ready to conquer the North lands. War is coming Darien, more terrible and bloody than every before."

I let that sink in. Surely war couldn't be that bad, not if it meant for a chance to overthrow the oppressive Empire? But Monetia's voice made me hesitate.

I said carefully,

"How is that a bad thing?"

She hissed.

"Think, Darien. Skiamance cannot be overthrown by normal means, for he is tied to his own magic. The North will crumble before his assault, now that he has his asset, and Emperor cannot be allowed to take the North, or Minecraftia will be plunged into darkness. It is not the time to be contemplating a rebellion. The time is not right to fight for freedom, not yet."

"So what has that got to do with me?" I asked, still keeping the careful tone.

"There is only one who can stop this. Only one who has a chance to prevent the bloodshed."

Somehow I knew I wasn't going to like what I was going to hear next. I didn't want to know the answer. Almost reluctantly I whispered,

"Who?"

"You."

My head was spinning. Me? A poor, hopeless runaway who spent a life chopping wood, and dreaming of a non-existent freedom? No, that couldn't be right. What could one person do to prevent the whole world tearing itself apart? I stumbled back, tripping on my own feet and falling onto my side. I scurried away from the direction of the voice, and jumped when she answered right behind me.

"There is no running from your fate hero," she whispered almost sadly. "You are the one Skiamance fears. You are Minecraftia's only hope."

I scrambled to my feet, backing away.

"Wait, wha-what's s all this about… about my fate? What is it with my fate that everyone is scared of?" I demanded angrily, my voice quivering. "The Enders said there was no running from destiny, you say the same thing. Is my future really that bad?"

"Your destiny is yet unclear, shrouded in darkness. A choice approaches you faster than you suspect. And the wrong choice may just destroy us all."

I shook my head in frustration, trying to clear my thoughts. Then I said wearily,

"What choice? I don't get it. Explain it to me, help me _understand_!"

"No hero…" She murmured, "The time is not yet right." Somehow I knew it would do no good to argue. She who warned had her own reasons for doing things.

"One thing. Why me?" I said.

"Because you have power, Darien. So much power that, untamed, could be our downfall. You have the power to be Minecraftia's destruction or it's saving grace. You have ancient roots Darien, a unique linage. Skiamance has his own power, and the Dark Lord even more. Yet you are more unique than either of them. Your blood is almost as old as Minecraftia itself."

I tried to wrap my head around that, but it wasn't easy. Nothing made sense. Everything seemed to jumbled and confusing.

"You said Skiamance feared me," I remembered. "Why? How does he even know me?"

"My brother warned him of your coming, he glimpsed that your fates are intertwined. My brother thrives on chaos and despair, and this is his attempt to shroud our world in darkness."

Suddenly something clicked. That was the reason the Endermen were sent to find me. For the first (and probably the last) time since I met Evan, I felt a wave of gratitude towards the man. But everything else was still impossible for me to understand. It was like I was trying to build a giant jigsaw, but I didn't have all the pieces, and without those pieces I will never see the true picture.

"I-I don't understand," I muttered, confused.

Monetia chuckled, the sound filling me with warmth, like a river running through the plains on a summer's day.

"Perhaps not yet," she said, "But you will. Everything will become clear soon. Your difficult journey will one day make sense, and you will understand."

_Difficult journey_? That didn't sound so good. I tried to make sense of everything that has happened, shaking my head in disbelief, but it was all too much, too fast.

"Why is this… happening? Why do things have to be so complicated," I growled, more to myself than the spirit. It didn't seem fair somehow. My bad luck never let me go.

"Balance is being tipped, hero," Monetia answered. "There must always be a balance. Of shadow and light, of cold and warmth. Balance is important, more important than power or strength."

I had to stop myself from snorting. This was the answer I got?

"Even evil? Even darkness? Even pain?" I snapped.

"Especially the darkness Darien. The shadows are as important as the light." Monetia chided. "Shadows define the light, and without them we would be blind. Evil lets us appreciate good acts. The bad is as important as the good Darien, the terrible makes the great worth achieving. Balance. You must understand this."

I didn't answer. I tried to bring my anger under control.

"What do I do?" I said eventually.

Any trace of Monetia's dark humour vanished.

"Seek out the Resistance, Evandrus will lead you to them. You will know why to do. And remember, do not trust the girl."

I frowned. Who was she talking about?

"You mean Dawn?" I found myself getting angry, defensive. "I think I know who I can and cannot trust, thanks."

_Like certain people called_ 'Evan' _for instance_, I thought to myself bitterly.

"You will know," she whispered again. "Farewell hero. For now."

Suddenly, the dark ground disappeared from beneath my feet and I was falling, further and further into the endless void, condemned to this eternal darkness forever…

. . .

I woke up with a start, sure I was still falling.

I sat up and winced, rubbing my shoulders. Perhaps a night on a wooden floor wasn't my best idea. Glancing out of the window, I realised it was still dark outside, but tiny streaks of pink were starting to creep from behind the horizon. The crack of dawn.

Dawn. Thinking of what Monetia had said jarred me back to reality, cold and harsh. I scooted up against the wall and leant back, thinking over everything Monetia had said; about me, about Skiamance, about the war. About balance. I tried to sort my thoughts into logical lines, to convert them into something I could understand.

Skiamance was planning a war, to take over the North._ Check_. He had an asset, some sort of ally that could help him achieve that._ Check_. And I was the only one who could stop him, though I didn't know where to start. I sighed. _Check_. How could anyone expect me to do this?

First thing first, I told myself, I need to find the Resistance. Apparently I will know what to do once I meet them.

Evan and Dawn found me there in the morning, sitting against that wall. I hadn't realised I had fallen asleep, but I was surprised I could sleep after everything I'd been told. We sat on the table, and after a cold breakfast of apples and melons, Evan turned to me and said,

"So where do you go now?"

I took a bite out of my apple, considering how to answer.

"The Resistance," I said, phrasing my words carefully and wincing at his surprised expression. I decided not to share my dream. It scared me too much to share, and I wanted to figure things out for myself. I prepared myself for his questions, but surprisingly, they didn't come.

He just nodded grimly and said,

"Okay. It will take us a while to get there. They are situated in Istenmire, a long hike through this valley. But we'll make it."

Judging by his strange look and lack of sarcastic comments, I thought that he knew about my dream, or at least suspected it.

"Hang on, what's the resistance?" Dawn said impatiently.

"Well," I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. "We're about to find out."


	7. A Warm Welcome

**Hello all. I am glad to announce most chapters from this point will be much longer so er... Good on that. Thanks for reading. **

It took us almost half a day to reach Istenmire. We trekked through the valley, climbing out of the other side, and continued west, keeping off the roads and sticking to the wilderness. The landscape was beautiful, untouched by human hands, the grass a brilliant green under the sun shining in the sky. Small flowers dotted the hill sides, brights specks of yellow and red among the otherwise green scenery. I felt great, breathing in the fresh air, feeling the gentle breeze on my face, sun warming my back.

A few hours later, however, the good mood began to fade. Evan's pace was increasingly harder to match, and we only got a few minutes rest each time we sat down.

"What idiot invented long distances," I grumbled to myself as Evan jumped to his feet and started clapping and shouting for the fifth or sixth time ,

'Let's go! Let's go!'

"Probably someone stupider than_ you_," He suggested as I got to my feet, and chuckled. "We aren't that far anyway. Istenmire is just over that hill."

Eventually we arrived arrived, standing on the hill, the city spread out impressively before us. My first thought was that Istenmire was _huge_. It's stone walls and guard towers loomed out of the horizon, and behind those walls was a flurry of activity and movement; people going about their busy lives. I could spot merchant's stalls in what seemed to be a square, their brightly coloured flags and banners fighting each other for attention. Mansions and houses stood in a chaotic maze of streets, rooftops glistening in the sun. The place was massive. And the fact that the most impressive thing I had ever seen was the small church in the village only reinforced this feeling.

"Wow..." Dawn muttered beside me, mesmerised as I was, "It's huge."

Evan grinned smugly, the scar rippling on his face.

"Second only to the Imperial Capital. You should see this place at night." He shook his head absentmindedly and said,

"Shall we?"

I shrugged. I just began to stroll down the hill towards the gates when Evan grabbed my arm, dragged me back and snarled,

"You. Are. _Insane_."

"What have I done now?" I growled angrily. Behind us, Dawn stifled a cry, and pointed at the wall.

That was when I noticed the posters. Struck as I was by the beauty of Istenmire, I completely missed the pieces of paper plastered everywhere, on corners, on the walls, on the gates. I squinted, unable to read them from so far away, but I could make out the bold headline. Something like-

'HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?'

An uneasy thought started to form in my mind.

"That..." I swallowed nervously. "That isn't me? Is it?"

Evan nodded grimly.

"Afraid so. I never seen so many in one place, so Skiamance must be pretty darn desperate to get to you mate. Let's go see what it says."

We crept closer, slinking to the wall and keeping in the shadows. I ripped off the nearest one and began to read.

_'HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?' _

_Wanted: Darien Smith_

Below the headline was a hastily drawn sketch of me, as well as a written description.

_Tall, lean. Dark hair, grey eyes. Serious expression. Believed to be travelling with two others, (as reported by witnesses) a man and women, both young. The man is believed to be the highly evasive criminal Evandrus. _

When I read the price on my head, I let out a low whistle.

"Eh?" Evan poked his head over my shoulder and snatched the poster out of my hands. Reading it, his expression soured.

"How come you're worth more than me, and all you've done is run away?"

I didn't feel in the mood for humour. _Great,_ I thought, _I was officially a fugitive_. What else is new? Suddenly I realised something, and frowned.

"Since when were you a wanted criminal?"

He gave me an impish grin.

"All Resistance members are wanted. And a few have been caught, I can tell you. We have a little competition going, who is worth more, until you came along and ruined my high score!"

"You are in the Resistance? How come you never told us?" I said angrily.

Evan shrugged.

"It never came up."

I wanted to question him further, but he held up his hand as if to say- _Later._

"I'm afraid I must leave your pleasant company, I have to do a job."

"You're just going to leave us here?" Dawn demanded.

Evan shrugged again.

"My job was to get you as far as here. The rest you can handle yourself. Anyway, farewell, master of idiocy ," He nodded at me. "And madam Dawn," He bowed politely. "See you in a bit."

I watched as he disappeared into the shadows and felt an overwhelming urge to kick the wall. Now what?

"I guess we should get in." Dawn said after a minute of quiet.

"Great idea," I agreed.

We wandered the length of the wall for a bit, sticking close to the stone to stay out of sight of the guards, not really looking for anything.

Eventually, we stumbled upon a trapdoor. It looked like it hadn't been used for a while. The wood was coarse and old, the hinges streaked with rust and looking as if they hadn't been opened in years. Looking through a hole in the splintered wood, I could just about make out the street. I tried to force it open, but it wouldn't budge, and the metal groaned in protest with my useless efforts.

Undeterred, I kicked it hard as few times, hoping to loosen the hinges, and finally managed to force it open. The wood creaked loudly as I pulled it back and motioned in the direction of the hole flamboyantly.

"Ladies first," I said, grinning.

Dawn rolled her eyes and clambered through the hole in the wall, me following soon after. We emerged on the street, and seconds later I pulled Dawn into an alleyway, just as a guard decided to stroll past. This was getting dangerous already, and we hadn't even started.

"Okay, here's the plan," I whispered. "We need to split up."

She nodded. I could tell she didn't like it, and neither did I, but Istenmire was huge. There was no way we could cover it all if we went together.

"Stay out of sight, try to find the Resistance. Look for buildings, people, anything." I said, keeping my voice low. "Good luck. And be careful."

"You too Darien." She whispered. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek, and ran off into the shadows.

I stood stunned for a second. Then I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I had a job to do- I couldn't afford to get distracted.

I crept silently in the opposite direction, down a particularly dark alley, trying to swallow down my fear. The blind darkness pressed on me from all sides, making me feel claustrophobic, and I could barely see sunlight behind the looming walls of a mason.

I didn't get very far- I hit a dead end after about twenty metres.

I sighed in frustration. Turning back around, I began to walk in the opposite direction, hoping to maybe find another alleyway to look in, perhaps find some clues of the Resistance's whereabouts. The sooner I found them the better.

Suddenly I noticed a silhouette of a person standing against the light of the street, blocking my way. I took a cautious step forward.

"Hello?" I asked carefully. The person didn't answer. She stepped out of the light, a young women about my age, and locked her blue, piercing eyes on me.

"I was wondering if you could help me," I continued. I was tense, ready to spring; as if I could feel a fight coming._ Why?_ I thought to myself. _Why did I feel like there is going to be a fight?_

"Were you?" The women's voice was careful and measured, like mine, but also threatening somehow. Her stance was aggressive, almost as if she was preparing to attack me.

"I'm looking for the Resistance." A second of silence. Then, fast as thought she stalked forward, grabbed the collar of my shirt and pushed me against the wall, the blade of her sword against my neck.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" She growled, glowering at me with those sharp, blue eyes.

"A warm welcome," I noted, "If that's how you greet every stranger then I don't want to ask how you say hello to your mates."

She shoved me against the wall harder.

"Listen joker boy-" She snarled.

"Who said I was joking?" I said.

"We don't play games here," She said threateningly, "and I'm not exactly the trusting type. So you better answer my questions, or you certainly won't be the one laughing." I was quiet for a second, considering how to answer.

"I'm Darien. Darien Smith." The girl raised her eyebrow.

"If you don't believe me then check the posters." I snapped, getting angry myself. Who did she think she was, thinking I was lying? She asked sceptically,

"Posters?"

Despite my situation, I managed to grin. Tricky that, with a sword under your chin. But somehow I pulled it off.

"Apparently I beat your high score. Want to check?"

She didn't smile.

"Why are you looking for the Resistance?"

"It's a long story," I said warily, trying to wriggle out of her grip.

"And I have very little time," Said the girl. "So you'd better get started."

"I was attacked in my village. Me and my friend ran away, making our way here, thinking it's our only chance."

Her expression softened a tiny degree of a fraction.

"So what are you doing here, if you're running from the law?" _Oh boy_, I wanted to say,_ it's not the law I'm running from. Just a crazy emperor who wants to cause a huge war, and a couple of the darkest creature of the night._ Give me a couple of city guards any day.

"I was sent to find you." I said slowly.

Ouch. Wrong thing to say.

"Sent?" She said, frowning. Her expression hardened and she pressed the sword harder against my throat. "Who sent you? You don't look like an imperial spy, but anything is possible..."

"I'm not a spy!" I said loudly.

"You'd better not be. I take it you don't know what we do to spies round here?"

I had enough. I tried to push her off me but she kept the sword at my neck, making it impossible to do anything. Unless I wanted to lose my head, which I didn't.

"Listen," I said desperately, "Monetia sent me!"

She frowned.

"Yeah right, and I'm Notch. Now tell me, who sent you?"

I could barely breath now. Dark spots danced in front of my eyes.

"Evandrus!" I gasped, and to my surprise, the blade disappeared and the restraining hands threw me to the floor.

"You know Evandrus?" She asked, levelling her sword while I coughed uncontrollably. It took me a few more seconds of breathing before I had enough strength to get to my feet. Still, it felt like the inside of my throat was coated with sand paper.

"Yeah," I managed to choke out, my throat still recovering. "Yeah, he said he was-"

I glanced up and froze. Carefully, me and the girl melted back into the shadows at the same time, out of sight of the imperial guard that had just decided to investigate all the noise.


	8. I Take a Crash Course in Acting

"And what exactly do we do?" I whispered furiously.

The guard came closer. In a few seconds he would catch us both. I had a tiny, small idea, but it was either a stroke of genius or very stupid. Still, I guessed that one of us getting caught was better than two of us. The Imperial guard came closer still. He was the stereotype. Large and burly, well built, with a rough face, which bore an even rougher expression. He wore armour made of cheap leather with an iron helmet.

"Come out come out, little fella. Who's down there?" The guard looked over his shoulder and yelled to someone. "Oi, I think I found one."

Desperately, I looked around, searching for a way out. I noticed a stack of wrecked wooden crates piled up against the wall, and the low roof overhanging slightly. Suddenly it all came together. There was no way we could climb up onto the roof; there was no time. But if we _had_ time... A crazy idea started to form in my mind.

Quickly and quietly, I told the girl my plan.

"Climb up, onto the roof, then help me up. I'll distract them and buy us some time."

She looked outraged.

"Why should I do any-"

"Just do it!" I hissed angrily.

I had a vague plan in my head, but it was going to depend a lot on luck. The _one_ thing I didn't have. But then it was too late to change my mind.

Morphing my face into what I hoped was a serious and dignified expression, I stepped stepped out of the darkness. It was time to act a lot more confident than I felt.

The guard looked at me, frowning.

"What you doin' in there eh?"

I lifted my head up, looking about elaborately as if I owned the place.

"Not your business lad. I live here, I think I ought to have the right to go where I wish."

My voice was so proud and mighty, so like _Gareth_, that I wanted to cringe. Eugh. But I had no choice.

"You look familiar, like I've seen you before…You famous mate?"

I felt a fleeting moment of panic before regaining control.

"Indeed, I...Er, perform in the theatre." I invented wildly, hoping that there actually was a theatre in Istenmire. To my surprise, he bought it.

The guard was either very blind or completely oblivious of what was going on in the city, because he frowned again, scratching his head under his helmet and pointing the sword at me. I wondered about the helmet. Probably standard issue for head protection, but I thought it was a waste because really... there didn't seem to be a lot of point protecting something that had so little in it.

"What were you doing in there then?" he demanded. "I 'eard voices."

"Practicing lines." I said in that elegant voice, striding past him and glancing about the street. Luckily there was no one out but I knew I had to act quickly. There was no knowing how long my temperamental luck would last. I turned to him, gesturing extravagantly.

"I am a master of the arts," I said, feigning anger, "A professional needs his space, man!"

He stared dumbfounded for a second. I could practically see his gears turning, trying to figure out if what I said was true. Eventually the shock faded off his face.

"Fine," He muttered, then sheathed sword. While part of me was delighted at my success and that I might actually get out of this alive, the other part of me was thinking: _Oh Notch, what did they teach these people?_

"Sorry sir, it's just, yeh see-" his voice dropped to a low whisper that I had to lean in to catch. "These Resistance members, they like them alleyways. I thought-you know, you migh' be one of them."

Out of the corner of my eye I could just about spot the girl clambering over the last crate and leaping gracefully onto the roof. The guard's attention flicked behind me for an instant but I snapped my fingers in front of his face.

"I, uh..." I tried to use my best grand voice. "I better be off now. Finish my theatre- Er- lines! Lines for the theatre I say. See you around old chap. Er, stay out of trouble. There's a good lad." I clapped him on the shoulder and strode self importantly back into the shadows, back to safety.

I was just 2 metres away... 1 metre..._ So close_... Behind me I could hear low mutterings of another guard. They seemed to be having an argument.

"Stop!" The order was sharp and definite. This wasn't the guy I spoke to, this was obviously the one he was calling for.

I froze, not daring to glance around.

"Turn around and show yourself!" he commanded. Panic closed up my throat but I managed to say,

"I have practice! I told you lad, I need space!" It didn't work.

"Do it!" The guy's voice sounded unsure and nervous, but commanding all the same. I didn't want to turn around. But I could tell that if I didn't, things were going to get messy. Slowly, I turned on my heel, to face the two guards. I spread my arms.

"Happy?"

The guy I spoke to was grinning lazily.

"He performs in the theatre."

His friend looked at me, the shock registering in his eyes and his jaw dropping as he compared the picture on the side of a wall to the real thing. The sword slipped from his hand and landed on the pavement with a _dzang_ as he started to stammer.

"But that's... you are…S-smith…" He turned to his companion. "WHAT-THEATRE _YOU_-" He hopped about on the spot, tearing at his hear, torn between berating his assistant or chasing a wanted criminal.

"That's- that's..." He was lost for words for a minute.

I backed up, calling upwards loudly,

"Hey you! Any time now would be good!"

The guards bellow echoed through the street,

"BACKUP! HERE _NOW_!"

For a terrifying second I thought the girl had abandoned me and left to save herself, but then her hand reached down beside me and I caught it gratefully. She hauled me onto the roof top and I stumbled briefly, almost pulling us both down. Once I steadied myself I said,

"Now what do we do?"

She looked at me, her blue eyes losing their angry, tough look for just a second.

"Now..." She swallowed nervously. "Now we run."

We dashed from roof top to roof top, the guards hot on our heels. There were more than a dozen, spread out in the streets and yelling orders.

"So much trouble for us?" I muttered, out of breath already.

The girl rolled her eyes, as much as you can when running for your life.

"Now that they've seen me, they are definitely not giving up easily."

I decided to leave it at that. We kept running. Up ahead I could spot the ending of our roof, and I skidded to a halt. The girl kept going. She leaped gracefully over a gap in the roof tops, and stared at me from the other side.

"Well?" She said impatiently. _This is insane_, I thought to myself, looking down and feeling dizzy at the sight of the ground so far away. If I fell, it was going to hurt. Or maybe not. Because if I fell from here I would most likely be dead. I heard a yell somewhere behind me, and I raced forward. The edge came closer with every second. _No time to think, just do it_. I sprung over the empty space, landing neatly on the other side.

"Well, that went better than I expected," I said loftily. The girl tugged at my shirt roughly and said,

"Come _on_!"

We bolted over the timber roof, no thought except to escape. I glanced sideways and could spot people pointing and muttering to each other. I guessed you didn't get crazy criminal chases here everyday. We bolted over the timber rooftops, barely keeping our balance.

Suddenly, the roof dropped away threateningly and this time the gap ahead was too wide to jump over. I almost toppled into the street, hurtling towards the ground many metres below, but the girl clamped her hand on my shoulder and pulled me back.

"Thanks," I muttered breathlessly.

She brushed away a stray strand of hair from her face, and glanced back. The guards were advancing on the house slowly, knowing we were trapped. A few of them were holding something, some sort of wooden stick I couldn't make out because I was so far away, but I felt something was wrong. I tensed.

Hearing the unmistakeable sound of a bow being drawn, I tackled the girl just as half a dozen arrows zipped past the space where we were a moment before.

"Thanks," she gasped.

"Why do they have _bows_!" I growled in frustration, as I scrambled to my feet.

Losing my balance, the world lurched sideways as I started to fall, and my flailing hands caught onto the only thing there was- the girl's arm.

"Arh!" We both screamed as we tumbled off the roof into the abyss. _CRASH_. The pair of us landed in a box full of vegetables. Carrots and potatoes spilled out onto the street, and this time, it wasn't empty.

Spitting out a carrot, I looked around wildly, into the staring faces of the Istenmire folk. The place was silent. A few metres away, a merchant dropped a pair of shears which clattered on the cobble street. I faintly hear the distant yells of the authorities.

I stood up, brushing my trousers off from dust and splinters.

"So er..." I started lightly. "Hows life?"

Nobody answered. The faces in the crowd were masks of shock and fear. The silence stretched on, the distant footsteps of the guard coming closer.

"Run?" I asked the girl.

"What do you think?" she growled angrily, and leapt to her feet. I followed her example and we careened up the lane, taking random turns in the jumbled maze of roads and avenues. I could barely run; I had a stitch in my side so bad it felt like somebody was jamming a rusty knife between my ribs. Eventually the girl found what she was looking for, because she took a sharp left into yet another alley, shouting-

"In there!"

I dashed into the darkness, breathing heavily, my hand on my side. I could spot the faint outline of something, a trapdoor. The angry shouts behind us subsided. Now that I was in the dark, I felt something else; a presence. Something was here with us, something stirring in the darkness… something evil, and definitely not human. It felt eerie and familiar somehow. I felt this presence before... But before I could warn the girl to get back out into the light, there was a loud _BANG_ and a flash of purple. I was thrown backwards, landing on my back.

In a violent shower of purple sparks, my two worst nightmares appeared- the Endermen, their eyes burning with hate and malevolence. Their shadowy skin blended so well with the gloom of the back street that I had trouble defining their shape in the shadows. But I could still see the eyes just fine.

Beside me, the girl gasped in horror.

"What are they?" she cried, scrambling backwards.

"Friends," I said in a small voice, trying to keep my voice from quivering. I got my feet. "So how's it been? Any good news since our previous meeting? You should consider going for a swim, it's very relaxing."

Apparently, my attempts at banter didn't work. The Endermen hissed in indignation.

"Do not play games with us, fool. Running from us, you have only delayed the inevitable. The Dark Lord only wishes to assist you, to guide you."

_Time_, I thought to myself. _I need more time_. I had to get past them, but since I didn't have any ideas I decided to keep them talking. I cleared my throat in a comical gesture.

"Assist me? Tempting offer, but I don't think I need any help in dying, thanks. I seem to be managing well enough already,"

"You can not run from fate, petty hero, but Lord Skiamance can free you from the burden, he can give you power. Reject the ridiculous destiny you have been given- it will only be your doom."

"And if I don't, there will be doom anyway," I said. "It's really not a win-win situation for is it? Still, I think I'll look to the future."

The Enders both hissed in synchronisation.

"And do you think the future holds anything but pain and sorrow ahead if you take this path?" the first one snarled. "All _that_ future holds grief, regret, misfortune. You never be content, never be free. All you will ever know is agony and fear. Forever."

The words stung, mostly because they were true, or at least some of them. Fear? Definitely. And it wasn't just the fear of what was going to happen to me. There was so much I feared for all my life, like losing Dawn or Byjorn for instance. Always a constant fear. Regret? You could say that. If I never ran away with Evan I wouldn't be here right now, trapped between about 20 people who wanted to kill me. Misfortune? _That _thought made me laugh. My life was already so full of misfortune that it was unbearable to think it could get any worse.

Composing my face, I said,

"Right, so I'm supposed to believe that if you take me to Skiamance, I'll come out of it alive and in one piece?" I laughed nervously. "Sorry, but I'd rather take my chances with the doom."

The one on the right bared his teeth, seething. The white fangs looked odd, hanging seemingly in midair under those purple eyes.

"Then you are a fool," its friend snarled. The purple eyes burned more forcefully, miniature flames igniting in the irises.

"You leave us no choice, idiotic boy,"

Behind us, the distant shouts and clanking of metal armour of the guards echoed closer and closer. In a few seconds they would be here. The Enderman's sneer turned into something akin to a smile.

"There is no escape. Whether those fools catch you first, or you come with us, the end result will be the same."

At that point, I should have been terrified. I was trapped between a small army of lumbering idiots and two very smart creatures of the night intent on taking me to a crazy, oppressive Emperor, whom I have every single reason to hate. And they expected me to cooperate. But the truth was, I was angry. I ran from the Endermen, I ran from the guards, and I ran from Skiamance. I had enough. And I was done running away.

I snatched the sword form the girl and spun around, holding it out in front of me. Shaking my head, I growled.

"Think again mate,"

I could hear footsteps now, loud and heavy. I had an idea. I had seen the speed with which these creature moved…There was no way I could hope to beat them with a sword. Water would be a viable solution, but there was none in sight. Maybe if I could get them_ out of the way_ and get to the trapdoor… I pulled the girl to her feet and murmured in a low voice.

"Get ready." She nodded. Then I turned to the Endermen and said haughtily,

"I'm warning you, get out of the way." they just smiled evilly. "You asked for it," I said, and stepped forward. I swung the iron sword in an overhead arch, putting some power behind it. As I expected, they teleported away, somewhere behind me, and my blade went through empty air.

"Now!" I yelled, and pushed her ahead, lifting the sword while she struggled to force the trapdoor open. I faced the mouth of the alley, watching the Endermen get over their surprise.

"Sometime this week would be great!" I yelled as the Endermen advanced, the smiles gone, replaced by enraged features and those terrible eyes burning more than ever. A troop of guards appeared at the mouth of the alley, bumping into each other, frozen and staring in shock at the two creatures of darkness stood before them.

"Got it!"

I backed up, dropping into the small hole that the girl had opened. The trapdoor snapped shut above me, shutting off the day light and replacing it with complete darkness as I fell deeper underground.


	9. Tunnels

**Wow, my largest chapter yet! Anyway, enjoy, and if you have time, review. Thanks for reading guys.**

**. . .**

It turned out the drop wasn't that far. Unfortunately, the dark and uneven ground was not the best of places to land, and while the girl had rolled away expertly, I foolishly tried to land on my feet.

My ankle twisted inwards as I hit the ground some 3 metres below, and I thought I heard a sickening snap. Pain shot through my foot. For a moment that was all I could feel- the pain. Pain so bad I couldn't hear anything and my vision went red. I lay there for a few minutes, gripping foot and trying not to scream. Eventually, the ringing in my ears subsided, and my vision cleared, so that I could examine my surroundings as my eyes got used to the dark.

"Where are we?" I asked through gritted teeth, still on the ground.

"Underground," The girl said from behind me.

"Oh gee, you don't say," I growled, sitting up and wincing as the tiny movement jostled my foot. I carefully took my shoe off and examined it. My ankle was swollen and red, but none of the bones seemed to be broken, which I was thankful for. Still, I suspected I at least fractured it, because it hurt so much. The girl crouched beside me and inspected my ankle, prodding it with her fingers.

"Ow!" I said loudly, flinching.

"It's not broken," she said uncertainly after a minute. "But it's twisted badly. I would set it if I could, but I'm not an expert. I would just make it worse." For a second she sounded actually worried.

"So I guess setting is out of the question?" I asked.

She didn't answer. I could just about spot her outline in the dark, and saw her shaking her head at me.

"You idiot," she said, returning to her irritable, surly manner. "You do realise you are lucky you didn't break your leg?"

"I panicked. Something about getting chased by an army and a couple of creatures of darkness makes me edgy," I snapped through gritted teeth, then said sharply. "Help me up,"

She looked doubtful, but did as I asked and hauled me to my feet. Warily, I tried putting weight on my foot. Not a great idea- I cried out in agony and almost fell over again. The girl steadied me and snapped impatiently.

"Now because of you, it's going to take us about five times longer to get there,"

"What do you expect me to do?" I snarled. "Crawl?"

She rolled her eyes, muttering how stupid I was. Something about the gesture reminded me of Evan, and I wondered what he would say if he were here right now. Something along the lines of- _You idiot! You messed up again and I can laugh at you!_ I hoped not all the Resistance members were so unforgiving.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

"Don't take this the wrong way Smith," she warned in a low voice. "I still don't trust you."

Carefully, she threw my arm over her shoulder and helped me limp through the dark tunnels, barely able to make out anything. I found myself asking her questions to keep my mind off the pain.

"What is this place?"

"Tunnels, snaking their way under the city," she said in a hard voice. "They were dug here years ago. We are safe from the authorities here, they will not risk going down here. The Enders will not venture here also, for the ceiling is too low to permit their frame." There was something about her voice that I couldn't quite place, something not quite right. Nervousness? But I decided to let it go.

"So, do you do this often?" I couldn't see very well in the dark, but I could just about make out her hard glare.

"If you mean rescuing certain awful actors with balance issues then no, I not do this often."

"Right," I said, getting angry. "Remind me again, why do you hate me so much?"

She was quiet for a long minute before answering.

"You are a Southerner. That should be reason enough."

I frowned.

"You mean you're not?" I took her tense silence as a yes. "So why exactly do you hate me? Because I figure it's not my charming personality."

She sighed bitterly and heavily,

"If it weren't for your Empire, then the North wouldn't be fighting this war,"

"Well firstly, there is no war."

"Not yet," she said darkly. "But there will be. Once Skiamance rallies his armies he will mark to the North. And destroy all that stands in the way."

"Fine. Secondly, you make it sound like we asked for this,"

She laughed harshly, her voice ringing out into the heavy air of the underground. For the first time I noticed her strange accent. Hard, almost like stone.

"Didn't you?" Her voice sounded brittle. I shook my head. "You don't get it do you? You give all the power to just one man, and then complain. Because monarchy never works. Kings, queens, emperors... They're all the same, they always, always fall to their own greed of power. The North is different, they don't just dump all the responsibility on one person's shoulders. There are votes, democracy, fairness. People choose what they want, and that's why it works. At least most of the time,"

I let that sink in for a bit. It sounded like an impossible dream, something out of a perfect world. I tried to imagine it- a large house of my own, having a proper job that I enjoyed. Not having to work all day just to have enough to eat, but having time to spend on what I liked, maybe reading or painting. Perhaps I would have a dog. Perhaps I would write that novel I had been thinking about. And when the day came, I would be able to to vote and choose just who would rule our world, rather than living in the constant fear that I won't. A tiny choice perhaps, of little significance, but it made all the difference. It gave people some control over their lives.

The North sounded like a better, healthier place for me than here ever had.

"What's it like up there?" I asked wistfully. She obviously caught the wishful tone in my voice, because her voice softened a tiny fraction of a degree.

"It's beautiful. Often cold, a lot of mountains. There are pine forests, and a lot of snow, especially in the winter."

I thought about it. I had never actually seen snow, only read about it in books and heard stories about the stuff. We limped along in silence for a while, the pain in my foot now dulled and numb. Eventually I asked,

"Are you ever going to tell me your name?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Save your breath Smith," I waited and she sighed again. "Ellen. Ellen Tennon. Now can we shut and go faster?"

We limped along in silence for a while. I could barely make out anything in the darkness, but Ellen seemed to know where she was going. While we made our way through the tunnel, something draped itself across my face, something silky and soft. Usually that would not be reason to panic, but I was mentally and physically exhausted and in pain. I was in a dark tunnel barely able to see my hand in front of my face, next to a girl who definitely looked murderous enough to kill me. And I was scared. Jumping back out of her grip, I gave a strangled yelp and tore the thing from my face.

"What is it?" Ellen said irritably, picking me up again. I shook my head, looking at the silky, sticky string in my hands.

"N-nothing," I managed, shaken up.

After a while, the tunnel started to slope downwards and I figured that we were going deeper underground. I kept limping along, absorbed in my own thoughts.

Suddenly, a short hiss echoed through the dark, so quiet I thought I must have imagined. Beside me, Ellen stopped dead. The hiss echoed again, louder, more agitated. And there were more sounds too, the sounds of snipping of pincers and the tapping of many feet on stone. I got the very distinct feeling that we were not alone.

That was when I had a tiny inkling of what might be prowling these tunnels. It made sense- Ellen's frightened voice, the sticky string.

I tried to speak but my mouth was so dry that I couldn't make a sound. Gulping nervously, I whispered,

"What the hell was that?"

In the dark, I could just about make out her frightened expression, fear and uncertainty in her blue eyes, looking straight ahead. She couldn't seem to speak, and for a second I was afraid she was going to drop me and run the way we came from. I looked where she was staring, and also felt the immediate urge to bolt.

A pair of glowing red eyes appeared in the complete shadow, glowering deep into my own.

. . .

A fireball exploded against the wall in a dazzling inferno, a tongue of harsh flame charring the gleaming, polished stone. Skiamance roared with rage and sent another ball of flame hurtling into the wall.

Herobrine stood in the centre of the room, smiling coldly as if his master's anger amused him.

Skiamance glowered at his servant, circling Herobrine, miniature flames flickering across his hands and murder burning in his stormy grey eyes. The shadows in the corners seemed to escape their dark restraints, cowardly beasts inching along the polished stone floor towards their master. A feeling of cold settled in the chamber, making Herobrine's every breath turn to mist and dissipate in a flurry. A part of the Shadow Lord wondered how many more breaths he would see before his eyes.

"You mean to say," Skiamance snarled savagely. "That despite the efforts of your greatest servants, the boy has slipped through your fingers a second time?"

Herobrine's small smile slipped, his head bowing slightly.

"We did not consider the interference of Evandrus and the girl, my Lord. An inexcusable mistake on my part. And yet there was no way to foresee it- his decision was too abrupt, too sudden, as if something was influencing him."

"Monetia..." muttered Skiamance furiously.

Herobrine frowned in concern.

"My Lord?"

Inside, Skiamance was cursing himself for not considering the possibility that Monetus's twin might be tipping the scales. He should have known. That fool of a spirit always meddled in his affairs, always against him, just like the first time... He paced furiously, the fire still burning in his hands.

Herobrine's face hardened.

"It is completely possible that Monetia was influencing Evandrus. Considering your history with that particularly individual-"

"Do not speak of it!" snapped Skiamance. He was clearly bothered by the thought.

Bowing stiffly, the servant said indifferently,

"As you wish my Lord,"

Skiamance breathed heavily, calming down from his brief fit of temper. Rarely had his anger surfaced so abruptly and uncontrollably. He did not take rash decisions based on fury and anger. Those emotions were for lesser beings. No, the Emperor conquered through his calculation and cunning, through solid fact and calculated risks, a true tactician. He would not allow his anger to escape again. Skiamance took another deep breath and the shadows receded, shrinking back to their dark corners.

"I will not take any more chances," he said in a heavy voice. "I want the boy dead."

Dead silence followed his words. Herobrine frowned uncertainly, gazing at his master as if trying to figure out his reasons.

"Are you sure my Lord? Monetus told us-"

Skiamance strode up to his servant, towering over him, and his eyes flared a dangerous red. He spoke threateningly, his voice emanating a cold fury.

"I am fully aware of what Monetus told me, petty_ servant_," Skiamance snarled, emphasising the last word. "But the boy is still a danger. Do not question my motives, Herobrine,_ I_ am still your master, you _will_ obey my bidding."

Herobrine's lip curled angrily, his eyes flaring a harsh white in his anger. He was not to be ordered about like boy. For a second he was very tempted to reply, to utter the incantation to cast Skiamance into oblivion, to challenge the fool before him and rid the world of his stupidity. How could the so called 'Emperor' not see the benefits of the boy's survival? How could Skiamance miss the weapon that could be so delicately crafted into a killing machine? But at the last second Herobrine regained control, keeping his composure, knowing that to act rashly was unwise and would only result in more problems later. He had to bide his time.

"Of course. Forgive me my Lord, I forgot myself."

Skiamance calmed down completely, the fire playing on his fingertips fading to embers before extinguishing fully and the mage returned to his secluded, cold manner. He strode around the throne room, thinking hard.

"You will kill the boy," Skiamance said in his usual cold tone, any trace of rage or anger gone. "And report to me,"

After a minute of tense silence Herobrine said,

"It will be difficult. I cannot harm the boy directly. Fate will not allow it yet,"

Skiamance waved this off.

"Then kill him indirectly. I am not concerned about how you do this, only that it must be done,"

"As you wish, my Lord," Herobrine said, bowing, and leaving the throne room.

Skiamance watched him go, and resumed his brooding. He felt reluctant to murder the boy, not only because of the fact that Monetus had promised him to be a great and powerful weapon. There was another reason, more close and personal… The Emperor also couldn't shake the feeling that in bringing back Herobrine, he had made a terrible, inexcusable mistake. Skiamance stopped his pacing, for the first time in his long life allowed himself to feel an array of emotions he thought he would never feel in a long while- _uncertainty and fear._

_. . ._

I stared at the red eyes, and they stared right back. I could barely breath. Very slowly, Ellen let go of me and reached into her pocket. I couldn't see what she was doing because I was still holding the thing's eye contact…. whatever the thing was.

Beside me, Ellen took the thing out of her pocket, some sort of stick, and muttered something very softly. It didn't sound like English. In fact, it sounded like something much older, an ancient tongue, some sort of spell… Whatever it was, it made the stick burst into flames, and I realised for the first time that the stick was in fact a torch.

I squinted as the sudden light filled my vision, burning my eyes. Raising a hand to shield my face from the glare of the flames, I wait as my eyes adjust, wondering why Ellen didn't light a torch earlier. I was glad she did it sooner rather than later though.

Fortunately, I was no longer blind, and I could actually see my surroundings properly for the first time. The walls were roughly made of earth, coarse, wooden beams holding the tunnel in place. The floor was made of hard packed dirt. The light illuminated Ellen's pale face beside me, and a small, steady stream of gravel streamed from a break in earthen ceiling. Further forward a supporting wooden beam had snapped, the rotten wood jagged and broken.

Unfortunately, I could still see the red eyes, as well as the rest of it. In a way, I wished that Ellen hadn't flood the place with light, because what I could see now clearly was definitely a lot more terrifying than if it just was the eyes.

A gigantic arachnid stood in the tiny tunnel, having barely enough space to turn around. The thing was huge- a large body with barbed, spindly legs, and a cluster of red eyes staring out just above a pair of pincers. It snapped it's pincers menacingly, and I tried to back up. I forgot I had a twisted ankle and hit the dirt, scrambling backwards. Ellen backed up with me, holding the sword with trembling hands. It started stalking forwards slowly, as if unsure what we were.

"Nice spidy," I muttered in my most soothing voice as I got to my feet painfully, using the wall for support. "Nice spidy-spider… you aren't going to attack us right? Just back off. Be nice. Come on…" I stared into the thing's eyes, almost pleading. It hissed furiously as it started to advance more aggressively. It was obviously not impressed.

"Well that worked," Ellen muttered, her hands shaking worse than ever, the vibrating torch casting flickering shadows on the tunnel walls.

The spider snapped up at the sound of her voice, and without a moment's hesitation, lunged. Taken by surprise, Ellen would probably have been torn apart by those pincers had I not kicked it away with my good foot, howling as I almost lost my balance and toppled to the floor. I managed to steady myself on the wall as the spider hissed and spluttered, backing away.

I snatched the sword from Ellen's hands. It wasn't like she was going to use it._ Wow_, I thought, as Ellen stood shocked and pale, unable to move_. I am going to have to fight the giant arachnid, and I have the broken foot._

It got over it's surprise pretty quick, and started to advance on me, those huge, hairy spider legs rapping the floor menacingly. It lunged again and I aimed a slash at it's body. It darted out of the way, smashing into the tunnel and making the walls shake. I slashed again, aiming for a leg, and with a sickening_ flop_, the leg disconnected and fell on the ground.

Unfortunately, I didn't kill it. In fact, I think I only made it even more mad. It jumped onto my chest, much faster and higher than a creature of that size should have been able to move and I fell to the ground. It pinned me to the floor, those pincers snapping just above my face. Naturally, Ellen didn't do anything. I yelled loudly, trying to push it off me but it was too heavy.

"Oi! Do something!" I shouted again, and to my surprise, the immense weight on my front disappeared. The spider dissolved slowly into white dust, showering me with power. Standing over me was Ellen with a sword, pale and shaking, looking terrified.

I lay on the ground, breathing heavily.

"Thanks for the help," I muttered grouchily as I stood up and rubbed my chest, brushing any dust off. I looked at her, realising something for the first time.

"You knew what was down here," she nodded slightly. "And yet you still led us down here anyway?" I went on.

Now that the threat of giant spiders was gone, she looked her usual angry self.

"It was necessary, it was either here or up there with the Enders."

I guessed that I couldn't argue with that logic.

"You're scared of spiders," I said accusingly as we started to limp in the direction of where the spider came from.

"Don't be stupid," she said irritably. "I'm not scared of anything."

"Yeah you're scared," I said jokingly. But I was shaken up from the encounter, and could barely stand up. Ellen didn't look much better. Such were the drawbacks of getting attacked by gigantic spiders in creepy, underground tunnels.

It took us a few more nerve-racking hours, but eventually we stumbled across the door.

It was rusted and old, the steel corroded and grimy, the edges encrusted with dirt and mud. A few vines snaked their way across its surface. It looked like it hadn't been opened in years, just like the trap door.

"You sure this is the one?" I asked uncertainly, holding on to the wall for support while she grabbed hold of the handle, attempting to open it.

"Of course I'm sure," she snapped, now planting a foot on the wall and pulling with all her strength. "It's just we don't use this side all that often. Almost… got…it!" The door gave way with a loud creak, and Ellen, surprised, fell back onto the floor.

"You sure do know what you are doing," I remarked as I helped her up. She ignored the remark and helped me limp through the door, into the room on the other side.

"Welcome," she said in a dramatic tone. "To the Resistance."


	10. The Resistance

**Nobody reviewing? Nevermind...**

**. . .**

The room was large but cosy. The walls were made of rough stone, reinforced with wooden beams, and a large log fire burned in an alcove in the wall. Wooden frames with random mementos hung on the walls, all labeled with neat, scripted handwriting. A single, dusty lamp hung on the ceiling, dimly illuminating the hazy room and the people in it.

Around a dozen unfamiliar faces looked up at us. They were all busy- some playing cards at the various tables scattered about, a few leaning against the wall and talking in hushed voices. A shady character was leaning against the wall glaring at me, flipping and catching a sharp-looking knife in his hand. The air was full of laughter and chatter and general hustle and bustle.

But they all froze when they caught sight of the new arrivals, the room descending into a tense silence as I struggled to think of what to say. After a second of quiet, a familiar voice sneered out of a dark corner,

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my good ol' buddy, cranky Darien the fool." Evan's scarred face broke into a grin as he stepped towards me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You got here all right? You are here alive, so I can only assume you're Resistance material,"

For a moment I was so surprised that I just stood shocked, trying to understand what he was trying to say.

"It was a test?" I asked, perplexed. He nodded.

Then it dawned on me what he meant and rage drowned me like a flood. I was so angry that I could barely do anything apart from splutter and try to find a word bad enough to call him.

"You… little... You..." I stuttered angrily, but before I could do anything more than curse in a string of Minecraftian swear words even Gareth would have been proud of, something leapt out of the haze and tackled me in a vice-tight hug.

"You're alive!"

"Ow!" I yelled, as Dawn stepped on my foot, and she took a step back. Her face was instantly lined with concern.

"What happened?"

"Long, _long_ story, involving creepy tunnels, giant Arachnids, and broken feet," I muttered, still leaning on Ellen heavily. Dawn's eyes widened and she was about to speak when beside me, Evan tossed me something- a bottle. It was a tiny vial, barely bigger than my finger. I caught it clumsily, my fumbling fingers just about closing around it in time before it plummeted to the floor.

"Drink it, it'll make your footsie feel better," Evan remarked in a mocking voice, smirking. Glaring at him, I downed the tiny bottle in one gulp, and suddenly, instantly, my foot began to heal. The swelling disappeared, as did the pain, and in a few minutes my foot felt as good as new. Gingerly, I tested it, holding onto Ellen in case I was going to fall. Surprisingly, my foot didn't hurt at all.

"Thanks," I said grudgingly to Evan. Than I turned to Dawn.

"How did you get here?"

At this, Ellen shoved me impatiently.

"Come on, save the emotional meeting for later," She growled, and started to drag me towards a door. I had no choice but to follow.

"I tell you later!" I called over my shoulder, before Ellen bundled me through the door and slammed it behind me.

I looked around. I was in an elegant office, or at least as elegant as you can get when you're living in the underground. The walls were smoother and more polished, painted a dirty beige. Several torches were embedded in brackets around the room, casting warm, flickering light and making shadows dance on the walls. A neat oak desk stood up against one wall, piled high with paper work, stationary and several weapons, leaving barely any room for any actual work. A short iron sword was balanced precariously on the edge, threatening to fall and clatter to the floor. A man sat behind the desk, scribbling furiously and frowning in concentration, muttering nonsense to himself. For a second he reminded me of Hugo, and I felt a painful pang of longing as my thoughts drifted to home.

The man at the desk looked up. His bright eyes widened in surprise, and his hand slowly stopped it's fast paced writing. At first, he didn't strike me like a leader. He looked normal, with his fair hair and a bright expression. His goatee was trimmed neatly, and his hazel eyes expressed a kind of interesting creativity- the sort of eyes that could look at a scene and memorise it before sharing the memory with a tub of paint and a canvas.

"Hello," he said pleasantly, nodding at Ellen and looking at me curiously. "Apparently we have a guest." He raised an eyebrow at me and held out a hand. "Maximus Tenus is the name, nice to meet you. I suppose you have good reason to disturb me?" This time he addressed Ellen, who nodded. He frowned, then looked at me again, a spark of recognition flickering in his eyes.

"Who is this? You look familiar. I wonder if..." He started shuffling through the immense amount of paper work on his table, evidently looking for something. Then he pulled a sheet out and examined it with interest, his face gradually growing more and more surprised until the paper was just inches from his nose. I recognised it as one of my posters.

When Maximus spoke, it was with a new tone of urgency I hadn't heard a moment before. He turned his attention to Ellen.

"Tell me everything, from the top," he said urgently, throwing a strange glance at me. "I want the full report of how _this_ one," he nodded in my direction. "Got here."

Ellen started from her end, about how she had been patrolling the streets before stumbling upon a wanted guy looking for the resistance. Then she went on about the chase, and told him about the Endermen, ending with the events in the tunnels. After she finished, Maximus frowned.

"You let him live? The usual protocol would be to kill them,"

"Wow, I feel so welcome," I said sarcastically.

He scowled.

"It's better that way. It ensures that people don't dig around, keep quiet and let us do our business. So exactly why _is_ Mr. Smith here in one piece?"

Ellen gave me a dirty look.

"He said Evan sent him,"

The room descended into grim silence at these words. Maximus instantly turned his attention to me.

"You, tell me everything. How you got to Istenmire, how Evan found you... I need to hear everything."

"Hang on," I said, frowning. "He didn't tell you I was coming?"

The guy shook his head grimly.

"We are all as lost as each other in this business. Now tell me all that has happened,"

Now it was my turn to take over the story. I told him all about my old life, about how Evan appeared randomly and saved me from the Endermen, about our most recent travels. I didn't talk about the dream though- I decided to keep it to myself until I had time to figure things out.

"Hmm," Maximus said, stroking his chin, clearly deep in thought. "I must speak to Evandrus personally about this. I suppose he always does things his own way, but for him to seek out a wanted man whom he barely knows… that is most unlike him."

"He said I was in grave danger," I remembered. "At the time I thought he meant the Endermen, but now I'm not so sure. He sounded like he already had suspicions it was to do with Skiamance even before they outright told us."

Now that I wasn't running for my life and had time to think about it, an interesting thought entered my head. I had the sneaking suspicion I was not the only one to be visited by the spirit of warning, and that Evan had his fair share of dream visits from Monetia. It would make sense, especially because the Evan that _I_ knew was unlikely to come and find me out of the goodness of his heart.

Maximus waved this away impatiently.

"It doesn't matter. The important thing is that you are here now, and we must decide what to do with you,"

"What do you mean, what to do with me?"

He ignored me, and turned his attention to Ellen.

"Ah… Miss. Tennon, bring Evandrus here for a… chat will you? And show Mr. Smith the ropes- I'd hate to kill him any time soon. After all, he does seem like a pleasant, productive, young chap. Off you go now," he dismissed us with a vague gesture of his hand, and returned to his writing.

I got out of the chair and went out of the neat, elegant office, slightly nervous and wondering what the heck I got myself. As soon we came out, Evan and Dawn approached us, Dawn utterly perplexed, Evan confident and grinning. Ellen frowned, and said slowly,

"Max wants to see you Evan,"

"Oh really," Evan grinned crookedly, his hands casually in his pockets. "In trouble am I? Is he going to cut my weekly allowance?" The mischievous glint in his eyes was still there, and with his dark character and his scar he looked unsettling, almost creepy, in the flickering light of the fire.

Ellen rolled her eyes.

"I don't even know why he bothers telling you off. You never take any notice of his ranting anyway." Evan chuckled darkly, but didn't say anything.

"Seriously? You call him Max?" I said, chuckling. I expected Ellen to tell me off, but she gave me a strange look, her expression looking almost as if she was scared, and fear sparking in her eyes for just a second.

"Did you hear his second name?" she asked quietly.

I frowned, recalling the memory of him telling me.

"Tenus, wasn't it?"

Ellen nodded.

"And you know what that means in Minecraftian, don't you?"

A shiver ran through me. It literally meant_ the dark_. I nodded, already setting a mental note to never laugh at the guy's name again. Ellen shook her head, her voice dropping to a low whisper.

"They call him Maximus the Dark for a reason. He's not bad, nor is he the traitor sort… But let's just say I wouldn't get on his bad side,"

"Hang on, can somebody explain what in the name of _Notch _is going on?" Dawn's voice cut through the conversation like a storm through calm. She signalled a stop with her hands, looking from Ellen, to me, to Evan, then back to Ellen again.

"Who're you, blonde?" Ellen asked beside me, irritated.

"Look who's talking, Miss I'm-all-so-dark-and-mighty? You better tell me who _you_ are," Dawn replied furiously. Evan smirked again, and started making his way to the office.

"Much as I like to watch this vicious battle to the death, duty calls," he said sarcastically, nodded towards the door and then turned to me. "Make sure they don't kill each other before get back." Then he leant in close to me and added under his breath. "Because I want to watch."

Chuckling, he disappeared behind the door, still grinning.

Dawn and Ellen glared at each other a second longer, before turning away from each other at the same time- a gesture I would have found funny if I wasn't so tired and shaken up.

"So er… What do we do now?" I asked casually, trying for conversation. Dawn glared at me while Ellen rolled her eyes.

"What...?" I asked, completely confused.

"C'mon, I'll show you the bunks," Ellen said eventually, sand then steered us through the main room. The laughter and chatter had returned, and I could barely hear myself think through the racket. Eventually we reached a corridor, torches lining the rough stone walls, and I looked up, noticing about a dozen doors which I guessed led to the rooms. Ellen went through one of the doors, and motioned for us to follow. I shrugged, but Dawn looked dubious.

We went inside. A single, dusty redstone lamp hung on the ceiling, throwing the room into smudged light. Inside, two bunks were pushed to each side of the walls, leaving barely any room in the middle to walk through. A small, wooden chest was somehow crammed between them on the far wall. On one of higher beds, a man was laying down, leaning on his elbow and reading something.

"Aw, hey Ellen. Where ya been?"

Ellen rolled her eyes.

"Sorting out these idiots." Beside me Dawn bristled furiously,

"We are _not_-"

Ellen cut across her, addressing me. She gestured to the bunk on the far side, the red sheets neatly folded.

"That'll be your one. No one uses it anyway," Dawn opened her mouth for a scathing retort, but I didn't care. I just collapsed into the bed, the warm sheets feeling like heaven after spending a night on a cold, wooden floor. I fell asleep almost instantly, embracing the darkness with my last thought being: _Please, no more nightmares._

_. . ._

It was safe to say that I wasn't liking the Resistance all that much. A few days passed since we arrived, and since nobody trusted us enough to let us out on missions and jobs, or even outside, we were truly stuck in the place. I hated it- stuck inside with nothing to do all day, being useless. At least at home I got to go to the woods. Dawn had it easy as she liked to read, but I was reduced to pacing the corridors angrily all day and trying to not kill Evan for sticking me into this mess.

Three days after we first arrived, there seemed to be more commotion than usual. The headquarters were pretty hectic as it was with members carrying messages, sharpening weapons and being busy, but that day everyone was milling about and talking in hushed voices, as if something very terrible had happened. Everyone seemed to be going to the main room, the one I came into when I first got here. As I tried to figure out what was going on, Ellen brushed past me and whirled around as I caught her arm.

"What's going on?" I asked nervously. Ellen's sharp, blue eyes seemed to echo my own uncertainty, and she lingered by the door, letting the people pass by.

"Max called a meeting," she said grimly. "And I think it's to do with Lord Skiamance," she turned and melted into the crowd, disappearing from sight. There weren't even that many members- around two dozen- but because the space was so confined it felt like a lot more.

I stood still for a second, shocked, before going with the crowd and trying to get to the main room.

It took a while, but eventually I emerged from the corridor into the open space filled with chairs, with everyone scrambling for the best seats. At the front stood Max, his face grim and determined, yelling instructions and trying to achieve order in the complete chaos. I glimpsed Dawn taking a seat to my right and swept into the chair next to her. She had to talk loudly to make herself heard over the din.

"Any idea what's going on?"

I just shrugged and turned my attention to the front. Meanwhile, all around us there was a total riot- people standing up in their seats and shouting incoherent words and queries. After a minute of failed attempts to calm the crowd, Max roared loudly,

"_QUIET_!"

Dead silence. The people slowly sank back into their seats, all attention on Maximus.

"Good," he said gruffly, walking up to the front again and glancing at everybody, doing a head count. "Most of you are here. Good. Now that you've stopped screaming and panicking like a bunch of little girls, shut up and listen. We have some very important matters to discuss."

He took a shuddering breath, and his face darkened. For the first time I understood what Ellen meant when she said Maximus the Dark. Because if I thought he looked like a less shady Evan before, I definitely didn't think he looked any less dark and dangerous than Evan now.

Max paced the length of the room, hands clasped behind his back, keeping his eyes on his audience.

"As you all know, in the recent week, several problems have arisen for the Resistance. We have also had some _very_ unsettling reports from our assets concerning these problems, which must be dealt with as soon as possible," he started slowly, and several hushed whispers broke the silence. He glared in the general direction of the murmurs and ploughed on. "The first and foremost one concerning our most bitter enemy, Skiamance."

A sharp voice yelled out from the back row,

"The Spawner!"

Max nodded grimly.

"Indeed," he said firmly. "That is the problem that requires our most immediate attention. Our spies have reported he is bent on it's retrieval, that he will not stop at anything until the Spawner is in his hands." Max gazed around the room, frowning. "I take it everybody is aware of the magic of the Spawner?"

I wasn't, but I decided not to point that out. I looked at Dawn and mouthed- _Can you tell me later_? She nodded at me and fixed her attention back to Maximus again.

"Good. In that case, I know that you all understand why I can't stress enough _that the spawner must not come into his grasp_. It would mean the end of all we are fighting for. The end of the world as we know it." The room descended into tense silence, until somebody else- a lad somewhere in the middle- called out loudly,

"So what's the second problem?"

Max paused, considering how to answer. After a minute of quiet, he gazed about the cramped space, scanning the audience.

"Yes. As some of you may know already," he nodded at Evan and Ellen, sitting a few metres to my left. "We have had some new arrivals. One of them goes by the name of Darien Smith," he finally found my face in the crowd and held my gaze. I swallowed nervously, unsure where he was leading with this. "It is clear Skiamance will stop at nothing to find the young man, and this causes us a problem," he continued, stopping his pacing. "Just as no prison is completely secure and unable to be breached, no place is truly safe and unable to be found. Skiamance has his suspicions, but having our friend Mr. Smith here will only make the situation our more risky. We have a rat in the camp, and this may be the news Lord Skiamance is waiting for. And now," his eyes flicked to my face again. "We must decide how we will solve these problems."

I shivered. Because from his expression I started wondering: _Was I was going to get out of this meeting alive_?


End file.
